


The Morning After Christmas

by Dancingdog



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas, Comedy, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Festive fun, M/M, Sam Winchester Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, Werewolf, vampire
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:41:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 28,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28110315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dancingdog/pseuds/Dancingdog
Summary: 'Twas the morning after Christmas and to Dean's surprise,He'd slept with a vampire, with mortified blue eyes...Or, your classic fake-dating Christmas fic where Dean thinks he's straight and Castiel's family won't stop hounding him to get a boyfriend. So, Castiel brings a werewolf home and to absolutely no one's surprise, his vampire family aren't best pleased with his decision.It would have been less complicated if Castiel hadn't gone and accidentally slept with the annoying werewolf.Sam absolutely ships it.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 133
Kudos: 135





	1. Prologue

_‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the hall,_

_The vampires were partying at their Winter Ball;_

_The Novaks were hosting this elab’rate affair,_

_In hopes that their daughter soon would be there._

_The family were waiting, breaths caught in their throats,_

_For Mr. Perfect to reach inside his coat,_

_And pull out a ring, so shiny and new,_

_Then sink to one knee and announce, “This is for you.”_

_Whilst out on the lawn, was an entirely different scene;_

_A man in a trench coat, and someone quite mean._

_Away to his car, the Grinch sauntered and hummed,_

_Leaving poor Castiel feeling quite numb._

_The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,_

_Gave a lustre of midday to objects below,_

_Castiel sunk to his knees, eyes closed in despair,_

_And his heart fell into a state of severe disrepair._

_The party continued, with drinks all around,_

_As Castiel slumped brokenly upon the ground,_

_More rapid than rivers, his tears they came,_

_And he sobbed, and he shouted, and called his ex names_

_Like ‘cheater’ and ‘adulterer’; too little, too late;_

_And around Cas’ heart formed a thick wall of hate._

_To the end of the garden, to the top of the hill,_

_The Grinch walked away, walked away, walked away still._

_After a while, Castiel rose to his feet,_

_He lifted his chin and then grit his teeth._

_He had a red face and white-knuckled fists,_

_He took off his ring as he stepped into the mists._

_He spoke not a word, but went straight to his bed,_

_And wished that his husband would soon be dead._

_He headed to work the very next day,_

_But he tossed out the key and locked his heart away._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A brief poem to start us off!


	2. New Arrival

Castiel glared at the flashing wreath of empty drug bottles outside Anaesthesia’s induction room. It blinked red and blue in an endless cycle, lighting up the corridor garishly and catching the attention of anyone who exited any of the three surgical theatres. 

“It’s a cytotoxic hazard,” Castiel growled, flexing his fingers around the green patient file.

“It’s Christmassy,” Lisa snorted as she set Bruce more comfortably on the gurney. The French Bulldog snored a little as he slept. 

“And whoever smashes into it first will have a very Christmassy trip to A and E, when all the tiny glass shards have to be picked out of their arm. Then, they can fill in an extremely Christmassy incident form,” Castiel huffed as he stalked up the corridor towards Imaging. 

Lisa rolled her eyes as she trailed him with Bruce. “I will never understand why you despise Christmas so much.” 

They arrived at Imaging and Castiel helped Lisa to arrange Bruce on the x-ray table before radiographer Eileen bustled in to correct his positioning. She ushered them out with a shooing motion and they retreated to the control room, watching through thick windows as Eileen fiddled with sandbags and foam wedges. 

“One, it’s _November_. Two, Christmas is a commercial ploy,” Castiel grumbled. “No other holiday gets a whole month dedicated to it, yet radio stations begin playing Christmas songs on the first of December and shops are filled with Christmas advertisements from before Thanksgiving. It’s _irritating_.” 

Lisa shook her head and fought the smile threatening her lips. “Christmas is _great_. It’s the one time of the year that you get to wear ugly sweaters, drink cocoa in your pyjamas, and pig out on all the food you can eat without anyone thinking you’re having a midlife crisis.” 

Castiel pulled a face and watched Eileen stride out of Imaging room 1. “X-ray,” she announced as she grabbed the corded remote and pushed the clunky button. She glanced over at the screen as the radiograph processed and, once she was satisfied, she shuffled towards Bruce again. 

“You can do those things _any_ time,” Castiel huffed. “You’re just a coward.”

Lisa laughed before ducking into the imaging room to glance at the anaesthetic monitors attached to Bruce. She quickly scribbled down some values and hurried into the control room once more when Eileen moved away from the table. 

“Whatever you say, Grinch,” she grinned and Castiel’s stomped down on the urge to smile.

He liked Lisa; she was his favourite anaesthetic nurse and she had somehow worked that out because she managed to worm her way into the majority of his surgeries. She was more laid back than the other nurses and he found her easy to work with even when time was tight and cases grew stressful. He often requested her if he had a heavy caseload and he knew that she was fast and experienced enough to get the next patient on the table before he had even re-scrubbed and re-gowned. 

Her only downside was that she often sang Christmas songs to herself when December arrived.

Bruce snored loudly. 

“Poor thing,” Lisa sighed as Eileen took another x-ray. “It’s a shame we have to remove the ET tube.”

Castiel shrugged. “We can leave it in as long as possible. Make his recovery smoother.” 

“He’s one of the worst I’ve seen. No nose whatsoever,” Lisa frowned before following Eileen into the imaging room again to write down a few more values. Castiel leaned against the entryway. 

“The rest of him is no better. Did you see his MRI? His spinal cord is an abomination.”

Lisa winced and nodded. “I’m surprised you could operate on it.” 

They shuffled into the control room as Eileen shot the last radiograph. “Lumbar spine was relatively straight compared to thoracic,” Castiel said as he flicked through the radiographs on the computer. “Look at those patellas.” 

Lisa peered over his shoulder and sucked in a breath. “He’s going to have to come back, isn’t he?”

“Yes,” Castiel sighed. “I’ll speak with the owners and get him referred to Ortho. He’ll probably be hospitalised for some time.” 

Lisa shook her head. “Physiotherapy’s going to be fun with him. Paraplegic and bilateral patella luxation. He’ll be half-bald by the time he’s finished with all his surgeries.” 

“He’ll look like a patchwork quilt with all those sutures and staples,” Castiel agreed with a grimace.

“Come on, help me get him to recovery,” Lisa said as Eileen began packing away sandbags. 

Together, they disconnected the anaesthetic monitors and wheeled Bruce down to Recovery. He blinked up at them sleepily and Lisa softly cooed at him. 

With nothing else to do for the next couple of hours and not feeling the urge to crack on with paperwork, Castiel lingered in Recovery, watching Lisa set up a pink kennel sheet. 

“Have you heard about the new resident?” Lisa asked casually.

Castiel folded his arms as he leaned against the wall. “Sam Winchester? Yes. I’m his mentor.” 

Lisa blinked before shooting him a wide grin. “Have you read his file? What’s he like? Is he hot?”

A smile tugged at Castiel’s lips as he shook his head. Nurses and their gossip grapevine. “He is appropriately qualified for the job,” Castiel teased. 

Lisa rolled her eyes dramatically. “You are absolutely no fun.”

“He’s… easy on the eyes,” Castiel allowed, chuckling as Lisa beamed. “He starts on Neuro with me, so maybe you should drop by and see him? Possibly whilst pretending to do your job?” 

Lisa feigned a look of offence. “How very dare you! As if I would do a thing like that.” She grinned wolfishly at him before taking Bruce’s temperature. He wriggled half-heartedly before closing his eyes again as the residual anaesthetics overpowered his will to escape. “Think he’s single?” 

Castiel shook his head with a chuckle. “Maybe don’t open with that.”

Lisa grinned again as the thermometer beeped at her. She wrote Bruce’s temperature on the kennel sheet and began counting his respiratory rate. 

“When does he start?” she asked.

“Tomorrow morning,” Castiel said as he glanced at the clock. “But he’s coming in this afternoon to get the initial paperwork finished. I’ll be talking him through it.” 

A frown pinched Lisa’s eyebrows. “Then shouldn’t you be getting on with Bruce’s surgery report? And his referring vet letter for that matter?” 

Castiel groaned dramatically and Lisa laughed before waving at him, eyes still glued to Bruce’s chest. “See you later, Doc.” 

“I can do the paperwork later,” Castiel protested.

“Get it done, Cas! You don’t want Zachariah on your back again. You know how he gets about tardiness.” 

Castiel grumbled to himself as he pushed off the wall; he knew exactly how the head of the Small Animal department got about late paperwork – he’d been on the receiving end of quite a number of those talks. Paperwork was just so _boring_. 

“All right, see you later, Lis. Thanks for the help today.”

Lisa offered him a thumbs-up as he left Recovery.

* * *

Castiel was in the middle of his second discharge letter of the day when there was a knock at the door. The office was otherwise empty and Castiel tilted his head curiously, since no one ever knocked on the office door unless they were a student – all the students should have gone home by now, right? It was six o’clock after all. 

“Come in,” Castiel said, intrigued, and the door creaked open to reveal a very tall man with broad shoulders and a mop of shaggy brown hair. 

“Ah, Dr. Winchester?” Castiel asked as he leafed through the mess on his desk to find Winchester’s file.

“Yes… Are you Dr. Novak?” asked Dr. Winchester. 

“Please, call me ‘Castiel’,” Castiel responded as he finally found Dr. Winchester’s file and set it in front of him. “Or ‘Cas’. Whichever you’d prefer.” He grabbed a chair from the computer station beside him and orientated it so it was facing his own chair. “Take a seat.” 

Dr. Winchester entered the room with a smile. “Then call me ‘Sam’. ‘Doctor’ sounds too pretentious.”

Castiel grinned. “I’ve always thought so too, especially when addressing colleagues.” 

Sam seemed to relax a little as he headed towards the chair Castiel had set out for him. He sat and Castiel watched as Sam’s smile slipped off his face in under a second, to be replaced by a scowl. 

Castiel found himself frowning as well, shoulders tense as he raked his gaze over Sam.

“You’re a werewolf,” Castiel said lowly, warningly. 

“And you’re a vampire,” Sam retorted, a growl threatening to escape his throat.

Castiel ground his teeth together, forcing the sharper ones to remain sheathed within his gumline. Sam’s dog-like stench was highly offensive to his sharpened senses and he wondered what he smelled like to Sam. 

Sam stood abruptly. “I’ll ask for a new mentor,” he huffed, turning towards the door.

“Sit,” ordered Castiel sharply, clenching the arms of his chair. “I will be your mentor.” 

Sam narrowed his eyes and Castiel could tell that he was working extremely hard to not shift into his canine form. “This clearly isn’t going to work,” Sam hissed, gesturing between them both. 

The chair squeaked in protest at Castiel’s tight grip on it. “Sit,” he demanded, eyes like slits and reluctantly, Sam did. 

Castiel leaned forward dangerously, voice quiet. “I don’t know what your intentions here are, wolf, but I won’t allow you to hurt a single human at this hospital. They are under my protection, understood?” 

“Your _protection?”_ Sam scoffed, equally as quiet. “I somehow find it hard to believe that a vampire is _protecting_ humans rather than feeding from them. Tell me, how many have you already sucked dry?” 

Castiel allowed his teeth to reveal themselves, briefly, just enough to have Sam sitting a little straighter.

“None. Contrary to popular belief, vampires don’t need human blood to survive. Animals are fine.” 

Sam looked uncomfortable, which was understandable considering his alternate form. “Right, so you’re just eating your patients?” he growled. 

Castiel clenched his fists. _“No_. And I don’t steal blood bags either. Are you quite finished? Can I give you the paperwork so you can get out of here? You’re stinking up the room.” 

Sam bristled. Wolves were always so _reactive_. “And you smell like a corpse. Why won’t you let me be transferred to a new mentor?” 

“Because,” hissed Castiel, “I want you exactly where I can see you. I won’t have any of the staff here in danger of being mauled to death by a violent _beast_ such as yourself. I don’t want a single one of them alone in a room with you.” 

A deep rumble echoed from Sam’s chest and Castiel flinched at the sound. _Everything_ about the creature in front of him was offensive. 

“I’m here to _work_ ,” Sam spat. “Not attack my colleagues. Wolves aren’t sadistic savages like vampires are.”

Castiel shoved a wad of paperwork into Sam’s lap. “Great. Then this warning shouldn’t apply to you.” He suddenly lurched forwards, bracing himself on the arms of Sam’s chair as he loomed over the huge wolf. Immediately, Sam pressed himself into the back of the chair and snarled at Castiel, and the vampire could hear his heart rate double. 

“Harm a single human in this hospital, and I’ll tear your throat out _with my teeth_. Is that clear?” Castiel hissed, mere inches from the wolf’s face. 

Sam stared at his unsheathed teeth with no little amount of fear before his expression hardened and he shoved at Castiel’s chest. “Threaten me again and I’ll drag you down the corridors with your skinny neck between my jaws.” 

Castiel rose to his full height and glowered down at Sam. “Glad we understand each other.”

Sam sent him a dirty look before starting on the paperwork and Castiel pulled a face as he awkwardly sat down, realising that he would now have to guide Sam through the practice induction. 

Sam looked more and more pained the further through the documents he read. Finally, he glanced up at Castiel uncomfortably. “It um… it says you have to walk me through the entire hospital and teach me how the computer system works.” 

Castiel cleared his throat embarrassedly. “Yes, I’m aware.” A tense silence settled between them. “I’ll ah… I’ll do that once you’ve filled everything in.” 

“…I can’t fill everything in until you’ve shown me around,” Sam mumbled.

Castiel frowned and peered at the paperwork, heart sinking as he realised that Sam was quite correct. 

“There’s a checklist,” Sam said quietly.

Castiel closed his eyes and nodded before rising gracefully to his feet. “Come on then. Follow me.” He paused and glanced at Sam through the corner of his eye. “Unless of course, you’d rather drag me around each room by my neck?” 

Sam found the floor very interesting and a smug smile pulled at Castiel’s lips as he strode out of the office.


	3. Building bridges

Sam was… annoyingly competent. And friendly. And a huge help around the practice. 

“Wait, so you basically got mugged by your _date_?” Lisa asked, a gleeful smile tugging at her open mouth as Sam grinned brightly at her. 

“Basically, yeah. Although I only realised that she’d mugged me when I got home. She gave me a fake number – obviously – but I only found that out when my brother tried to call her because apparently, she’d also taken my _phone_.” 

“Suction,” Castiel interrupted grumpily, wondering how Sam had won Lisa over in less than a week. He didn’t like the werewolf hanging around his favourite nurse – he still wasn’t entirely certain of Sam’s intentions at the hospital and although it seemed as though he really was just there to work, Castiel wasn’t naïve enough to believe that all monsters worked human jobs just for the cash. He had already chased off one werewolf for eying up a student’s neck and he’d fought a shapeshifter when he realised that she had been trying to kill a security guard in order to steal his identity. 

Besides Castiel himself, there was only one other monster working at the hospital; a dragon, whom Castiel actually rather enjoyed the company of. He was the head of the Orthopaedics department and Castiel was pretty certain that he and Sam hadn’t met yet. Considering how protective the dragon was of the humans in the hospital, Castiel wondered how well that particular meeting would go. 

Sam set the Yankauer on the surgical drape as he continued his conversation with Lisa. Castiel shot him a distrusting glare that went unnoticed as he continued the hemilaminectomy on Daisy the Dachshund. She began to pant, chest heaving as he explored deeper between her intervertebral discs and when the problem didn’t resolve, he spoke sharply, cutting Sam off mid-sentence. 

“Focus on the patient, please. She can feel this.”

Looking a little sheepish, Lisa increased the isoflurane gas level until Daisy’s breaths evened out. 

“When are her antibiotics due?” Castiel asked sternly before the pair could begin conversing again.

“Uh… five minutes,” Lisa said with a frown. It was unusual for him to ask about any of her anaesthetic duties since he usually had full confidence in her. However, Sam’s presence irked him and although he knew that he was being irrational, he was beginning to feel jealous of Sam’s budding friendship with Lisa. 

“How much disc material have you retrieved?” Sam asked, peering into the incision site. There wasn’t all that much to see but Castiel was feeling less patient than usual. 

“If you’d been paying attention to the surgery rather than gossiping about your failed date, you would know,” he muttered, earning himself a glare from Sam and a surprised look from Lisa. 

“My apologies,” Sam said through gritted teeth.

The remainder of the surgery passed in a tense silence, with only the occasional request for equipment from Castiel. Once finished, Lisa wheeled Daisy to Recovery as Sam and Castiel de-gowned in theatre. Sam began to tidy up and Castiel ground his teeth together. 

Why did Sam have to be so helpful? Usually, surgeons vacated a room and left all the bloody drapes and empty suture packets strewn around the floor. It was something that Castiel had always despised about his fellow surgeons and every student, intern, or resident under his wing was made to clean up after themselves; nurses weren’t there to tidy up after arrogant, inconsiderate surgeons. 

It wasn’t fair – why couldn’t Sam be less kind? Castiel was really struggling to find things to snap at him for.

…Not that he usually snapped at his residents, but Sam was different because he was a werewolf and Castiel didn’t trust him. 

He stared coldly at Sam’s back. “You need to take surgery more seriously. An animal’s life was at stake whilst you were cracking jokes about your love life. It’s highly inappropriate.” 

Sam straightened, arms full of discarded instrument bags. He scowled at Castiel.

“Well, you weren’t exactly teaching me anything. You barely speak to me. At least Lisa has the decency to treat me like a person rather than a _thing_ to hand you instruments.” 

Castiel squared his jaw and ripped his mask off with more violence than necessary. Sam was quite correct – he hadn’t exactly made an effort to teach the werewolf anything in his time at the hospital, but he didn’t need to let Sam know that. Besides, he wasn’t the only one whom had a problem with a vampire and a werewolf working together. 

“Perhaps if you pretended to be interested in what I have to say, or if you asked a few more questions about our cases, I might be more willing to teach,” he growled. 

Sam flinched a little and turned away to collect the dirty swabs. “You don’t make it easy. You clearly don’t want me here.” 

“And you clearly don’t want me to be your mentor,” Castiel fired back hotly, crossing his arms. From the corner of his eye, he could see some of the anaesthetists in the induction room staring at them through the huge windows, muttering to each other about the stand-off in Theatre 2. He was dreading the sort of rumours that would spread later – Castiel was known as one of the friendlier and more laid-back surgeons, so the gossip would spread like wildfire. 

Sam whirled around with an angry frown. “Are you honestly surprised?”

Castiel glanced at the anaesthetists and decided to remain silent. This was not a conversation to hold in front of curious humans. 

“I’ll meet you in Seminar Room Two. I want you to tell me your plan for Daisy,” Castiel muttered as he stalked out of the theatre.

* * *

Two weeks into Sam’s residency, on Wednesday morning at seven a.m., Castiel found himself glaring at the office door. The room was empty this early, but it would appear that it would remain that way for some time since Castiel couldn’t enter it either. It seemed as though someone had been a little overzealous with the Christmas decorations last night. 

He heard footsteps growing nearer and he turned, about to ask for aid, when his heart sunk at seeing Sam heading towards him, nose buried in a case file and a coffee in his other hand. He stopped upon spotting Castiel standing awkwardly outside the office door. 

“…Is it locked?” Sam asked hesitantly.

Expression pinched, Castiel shook his head and looked away. 

Sam stared at the door for a few moments before warily sliding past Castiel and opening it. He stepped into the office and flicked his gaze back to Castiel, who still lingered outside the threshold. 

“…What’s the problem?” Sam asked, perplexed.

“Nothing,” Castiel snapped embarrassedly, still refusing to enter the office. 

Sam returned his attention to the door and scrutinised it for a few moments before a smug grin lit his features. 

“You literally can’t come in, can you?” he asked, biting back laughter.

Castiel glared at him heatedly. “Obviously,” he hissed. 

Sam strode towards the door and plucked the cross off its hook. It was a tiny wooden Christmas tree ornament – quite subtle in all honesty, but Castiel knew exactly whom had placed it there and he vowed to pay his friend back for the prank at a later date. 

Sam slipped the cross into his pocket. “Think I might keep this,” he drawled, earning himself another dirty look from Castiel as the vampire stepped into the office. 

“Why are you here so early?” Castiel groused as he logged into his computer.

Sam sat beside him and Castiel shifted uncomfortably, the proximity of the cross in Sam’s pocket making his skin itch. Sam smiled sweetly and Castiel’s eyes narrowed into slits. 

“Since you complain at me for practically everything I do, I thought I’d get an early start on cases,” Sam huffed. “Y’know, learn them inside out before I have to present them to you so that when you interrogate me in front of the entire neuro team, I don’t look like a complete idiot.” 

A slither of guilt wormed its way into the back of Castiel’s mind before quickly withering away. “If you wanted easy, you shouldn’t have become a vet.” 

“If I wanted easy, I would’ve asked for a different mentor on my first day,” Sam retorted. “However, I’ve always enjoyed a challenge, even when my teachers despise me.” 

Castiel rolled his eyes and didn’t respond. He scrolled through the case list for the day and ignored the way Sam kept glancing at him. 

“No, you know what? Screw this,” Sam snapped, throwing his hands up. He swivelled on his chair and pointed an accusing finger at the vampire. “I’m here to learn and you’re treating me like dirt because I’m a werewolf. Why can’t you just accept that I don’t have any ulterior motives here? I studied for five years to be a vet and I’ve been qualified and _working_ for six years. What exactly do you think I’m doing here except trying to further my skills in neurology?” 

Castiel turned to him with a stony glare. “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve chased a werewolf out of the hospital for trying to eat a student. Pardon my manners if I don’t rush to believe your motives.” 

Sam blinked. “…You chased a werewolf out for trying to _eat_ a student?”

“And I’ve picked a fight with a shapeshifting intern for attempting to murder a security guard,” Castiel growled. “It isn’t uncommon for monsters to apply for a job amongst humans for more than just the pay. Surely, you’re not that naïve?” 

Sam stared at his knees for a moment before shaking his head slowly. “There… was an incident at my brother’s garage a few years ago. I didn’t see it, but it nearly ended with a customer having her brain skewered by a hungry wraith.” He lifted his gaze to meet Castiel’s. “My brother fought him off, but the customer… uh… she saw his canine form and… well…” 

“Tried to shoot him?” Castiel deadpanned.

Sam straightened. “How did you…?” 

Castiel tapped his left shoulder. “Still have the scar.” He returned to his computer screen, feeling a little more relaxed for some reason. “A lot of trigger-happy humans in Kansas.” 

Sam clasped his hands together, glancing around the empty office and its many garish Christmas decorations. “I’m not here to harm anyone,” he promised quietly. “I just want to help animals.” He paused for a brief moment. “And… y’know... It would be nice to be able to help my pack the next time one of them gets shot.” 

Finally, Castiel felt a smile teasing at his lips and he closed his eyes in realisation. “Difficult to take a wolf to a hospital for a gunshot wound?” 

Sam rubbed the back of his head. “Can’t really take a were to the vets either. We’re a bit… _large_ compared to the average wolf. Might raise suspicions.” 

Castiel tilted his head curiously as he fixed his attention on Sam. “Why neurology? Why not soft tissue surgery? Or emergency care, since you’re so interested in gunshot wounds?” 

Sam’s lips quirked at the edges. “Soft tissue is boring and emergency care’s far too stressful. Besides, I _like_ neurology. It’s fascinating. At the end of the day, I should be working in a job I enjoy, right?” 

Castiel nodded before leaning back to assess Sam. The werewolf shifted his weight, suddenly uncomfortable at Castiel’s sharp gaze. 

“All right,” Castiel said finally. “Perhaps I was wrong about you. Maybe you really do have innocent motives for being here.” He tilted his head. “I’m sorry for the way I’ve treated you these past couple of weeks, Sam. The humans seem to enjoy your company and so far, you’ve given me no reason to distrust you.” 

He lowered his voice. “Be warned however, that if you do give me reason to distrust you, I am far stronger than I look.” 

Sam bristled, looking ready to threaten Castiel, but surprisingly he forced himself to relax before nodding in understanding. “I promise I won’t hurt anyone. I’m not like that. None of my pack is.” 

Castiel smiled, pleased. “Good,” he said before glancing through the case list once more and selecting a Labrador called ‘Millie’. 

“I want you to take Millie today,” Castiel hummed. “I think you’ll find her interesting. She’s fairly new to the hospital and her owner has reported multiple seizures. I want you to take a full history, do a clinical exam, and then come to me with your findings _before_ you give any advice to the client.” 

Sam frowned, looking a little offended that Castiel didn’t trust his judgement, but Castiel shook his head with a smile. “She’s an unusual case. I promise it’s not because I think you incompetent – you’ve more than proved yourself these past couple of weeks.” 

Sam brightened and nodded before opening Millie’s history. Castiel watched determination spread across the younger man’s face and he smiled as he turned to his own computer. 

Perhaps the rest of this week would run a little smoother.

* * *

“Would you like to pass the endoscope?” Castiel asked as he stepped away to allow Sam access to Duke’s spine. He held the discoscope steady for Sam to take and the werewolf eagerly threaded the endoscope through the snug working sleeve of the discoscope. 

Lisa cocked an eyebrow at Castiel, clearly surprised by the sudden change in attitude towards Sam, and Castiel pretended that he hadn’t noticed her expression. 

“Ok, now place your retractors,” Castiel instructed. “The Gelphis.”

Sam did as ordered and Castiel smiled, pleased, before gently taking over. “I’m going to transect the longissimus tendon. What should I be aware of?” 

Sam blinked, looking thoughtful for a moment before shaking his head apologetically.

As Castiel started on the tendon, he murmured, “What lies ventral to it?” 

Sam perked up in realisation. “Spinal nerve?”

Castiel nodded as he gently cut the remaining fibres of the tendon. “And the surrounding vasculature.” He placed his scalpel on the drape. “Can I have the bur, please? A 1.6?” 

Sam found the correct head size and placed the instrument firmly in Castiel’s palm.

“Drilling through the external cortical bone now,” Castiel announced, prompting Lisa to check the anaesthetic monitors. 

“What’s your post-operative care plan for Duke?” Castiel asked as he carefully drilled through the spine.

Sam watched curiously. “Um… Methadone, paracetamol, meloxicam… maybe a urinary catheter? Until he can voluntarily urinate?” 

Castiel made an absent sound of agreement as the bur travelled deeper. “What else?”

“…Physio?” Sam tried. “And ice packs?” 

“Anything else?” Castiel asked, a frown pinching at his brows as he removed the bur. “1.2, please.”

Sam passed him the smaller head. “…Antibiotics, maybe?” 

Castiel eyed him sternly. “Does he have an infection?”

“…No, but with it being a long surgery…” Sam mumbled before Castiel shook his head. 

“He’ll have his antibiotics during surgery when we reach ninety minutes. He doesn’t need them post-op unless he gets an infection. Think about how he’ll be once he wakes up. What won’t he be able to do?” Castiel inserted the new bur into the hole he’d just been working on. 

“Walk,” Sam said with a frown. “He’ll be paraplegic for a while.”

“Correct,” Castiel murmured. “Go on.” 

Sam fell quiet for a few moments. “Oh! Bed sores! We’ll have to manually turn him.”

Castiel smiled. “How often?” 

“Every… five hours?”

Castiel nodded again. “This hospital turns patients every four hours. Well done, Sam. Good plan. Can you write the kennel sheet for me once we’re finished here? Then you can head off for lunch.” 

Sam nodded enthusiastically and without having to be asked, grabbed the Yankauer and began suctioning the excess blood from Castiel’s surgical site. 

Lisa stared between them in shock before shooting Castiel an amused smirk. Castiel spared her a brief exasperated glance before returning his focus to the microsurgery at hand.

* * *

“Someone really hates you,” Sam teased quietly as Castiel stared miserably at the Star of David hanging from the door handle. He had really been looking forward to stealing some student-made cake from Seminar Room 2, but a certain practical joker had made it impossible for him to enter. _Again._

“Yes,” Castiel agreed glumly. “It probably has something to do with how I swapped all of his sprout-shaped Christmas chocolates for actual brussels sprouts.” 

Sam stared at him with wide eyes before barking out a laugh. “Wait, _what?_ Does someone else here know that you’re a vampire?” 

“Unfortunately, yes,” Castiel sighed, peering through the window at the large tray of brownies.

Sam made a poor effort at fighting back a grin as he easily slid the star off the handle. “A human knows you’re a vampire?” 

“Not a human,” Castiel said as he pressed into the room and made a beeline for the tray. He adored Cake Fridays. 

“ _Not_ a human?” Sam frowned as Castiel handed him a brownie. “Oh, I don’t eat-”

“Sshhh, it’s Christmas,” Castiel scolded before Sam could return the sweet treat. “Calories don’t count at Christmas.” 

An amused smile quirked Sam’s lips. “Werewolves have low chocolate tolerance.”

“You can eat one brownie,” Castiel scoffed before groaning at the first taste of cocoa on his tongue. “Food is the only good thing about Christmas.” 

Sam rolled his eyes and placed his brownie in Castiel’s free hand. “Who else knows about you being a vampire?” 

Castiel stared at his second brownie gleefully. “Head of Ortho. He’s a dragon. A literal dragon – fire breathing, hoard-collecting, flying dragon. Are you sure you don’t want this?” He held the brownie up in front of his face. 

Sam blinked at the conversational whiplash and shook his head slowly. “A _dragon?”_

“He’s fine. A little excitable sometimes and a pain in my ass most days, but he’s not exactly _evil_ ,” Castiel shrugged as he started on his gifted brownie. “Most people like him. He does have a tendency to accidentally set his paperwork on fire though.” Castiel scowled. “Well, I say ‘accidentally’…” 

“I’m sorry… there’s a _dragon_ in this hospital?” Sam squeaked. “An _adult_ dragon?”

Castiel grinned knowingly. “I promise he’s not that scary. And his alternate form is… well… you just have to see it to believe it. He’s quite adorable.” A pause. “But don’t tell him I said that.” 

Sam looked rather pale. “I’d rather not see him at all, thank you.”

Castiel chuckled and a mischievous glint entered his eyes. “I should introduce you both.” 

Sam shook his head rapidly. “Please, don’t.”

Checking his fob watch, Castiel grinned. “He’ll be on lunch break. I’ll call him over.” 

“No!” Sam begged, reaching for Castiel’s phone when the vampire slid it out of his pocket. “I really don’t want to meet a dragon!” 

“Hey, can you come down to Seminar Room Two for a few minutes?” Castiel spoke into his phone as Sam attempted to wrestle it off him. “The new resident is _dying_ to meet you.” 

_“Is that the werewolf?”_ asked the tinny voice on the other end of the line. _“Pin him down, I’ll be right there.”_

Castiel beamed at Sam as he hung up and shoved the phone into his pocket once more. Sam looked ill. 

“I _really_ don’t want to meet him,” Sam pleaded, eying the door as a potential escape route.

Finally, Castiel took pity on him and sat him down. “I wouldn’t put you in danger, Sam. Trust me, you’ll be fine. He’s… not what you’re expecting.” 

Sam swallowed drily and waited no longer than a minute before the door slammed open and a short man with golden eyes and hair to match bounced into the room with a feral grin. 

“Oh look, fresh meat,” growled the dragon as he stalked towards Sam dangerously, eyes shining with coppers and silvers and golds in a most inhuman manner. His pupils constricted to vertical slits and grey whisps of smoke trailed from his lips as he prowled closer to the trembling Sam. Then, the dragon halted and stared behind Sam, pupils dilating in a way that reminded Sam of a cat whom had just seen his first Christmas tree. 

“You guys got brownies?! Our students made gluten-free, dairy free, sugar-free, everything-good-in-the-world-free cereal bars!” He turned to Castiel indignantly. “After the stunt you pulled with my sprouts, you’re obligated to give me a brownie.” 

Castiel crossed his arms. “Maybe if you weren’t so overcome with the need to decorate every door with religious ornaments, I might have said yes. As it stands, you’re not getting a single chocolatey crumb.” 

“I’ll wait for you to enter the toilet and I’ll hang a cross on the handle so you can’t leave,” threatened the dragon. “You’ll be stuck there for days.” 

Castiel bit back a laugh and gestured to the tray. “Help yourself.”

The dragon made a strange purring sound as he shot towards the tray. Once he had demolished the treat, he held his hand out for Sam to shake. “Gabriel Milton, Head of Orthopaedics. You must be Sam.” 

Sam stared at the outstretched hand warily before gingerly shaking it. It was abnormally warm.

Gabriel chuckled at his hesitation. “Hey, don’t worry, kiddo. If Castiel thinks you’re okay, I have no reason to doubt his judgement. I’m not gonna bite.” He winked obscenely. “Unless you’re into that sort of thing.” 

Sam snatched his hand back nervously, sweat trickling down the nape of his neck, and Gabriel released a booming laugh. 

“You’re jumpy!” he announced. “I’m gonna have fun with you!”

Sam’s eyes bulged and Castiel elbowed the dragon reproachfully before flicking a soothing gaze to Sam. “He won’t harm you. He’s just an ass.” 

“I’m a loveable ass though,” Gabriel grinned as he eyed up another brownie.

“You should tell him about your hoard,” Castiel muttered, wondering if he would have to fight Gabriel for the tray. 

Gabriel puffed his chest out proudly. “I have the _best_ hoard.”

Castiel snorted and received a glare for his efforts. 

“…What do you hoard?” Sam asked cautiously, distracting the dragon from scowling daggers into the side of Castiel’s face. 

“Treasures and luxuries beyond your wildest dreams,” Gabriel whispered.

“Chocolate,” Castiel deadpanned. 

Gabriel shot him a dirty look. “It’s not just chocolate. It’s the _highest quality_ chocolate. The richest cocoa beans in the world and the finest sugar cane, swirled together with the creamiest of milks from the most expensive cows.”

Castiel turned to Sam. “He keeps eating his hoard.”

 _“I do not.”_

“Then why does it keep getting smaller every time I visit?”

Gabriel’s mouth drew into a thin line. “Because… it’s delicious and I like to snack.” 

“No other dragon in the world _eats_ his own hoard,” Castiel teased. “Plus, no way is your hoard the finest quality chocolate in the world. I swear I saw some Reese’s Pieces in there last time.” 

“You did and I ate them as soon as you left,” Gabriel said haughtily. “Stop judging me.”

Castiel rolled his eyes and gave Sam a long-suffering look, to which Sam responded with a shy smile. 

“What sort of chocolate do you collect?” Sam asked politely.

“Everything,” Castiel said before Gabriel could open his mouth. “Next question.” 

Gabriel smacked his arm before turning to Sam with a patient smile. “Ignore him. I collect everything. Next question.” 

Castiel shook his head as Gabriel continued to grin.

Sam bit back a laugh, noticeably relaxing. A second later, the door opened and two students joined them, looking curiously between the three clinicians before heading towards the table to retrieve their lunches. 

“Having fun on Neuro, guys?” Gabriel chirped, to which the students responded with awkward smiles and half-hearted nods. 

Gabriel smirked. “Wait ‘til you’re with me on Ortho… you’ll be begging to come back here.” He winked as he sauntered out of the room, leaving the students to stare after him with something akin to horror crawling over their faces. 

Castiel smiled at them gently. “He’s joking. You’ll have fun. Come on, Sam, let’s leave the students to their lunches in peace.” 

However, as Castiel reached the door, he scowled at the newly-placed Star and Crescent dangling from the handle. At least Gabriel didn’t discriminate between his religions. 

He could practically feel Sam’s smile behind him and the werewolf smoothly removed the ornament without having to be asked. He slipped it into his pocket and Castiel’s skin itched briefly before he stepped out of the room and headed towards the office. 

“Thanks,” he muttered and Sam tipped his head in acknowledgement as Castiel plotted ways to repay Gabriel.

Perhaps he could coat some carrots in chocolate and pass them off as Cadbury’s fingers…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aww... look at that. A new friendship ;)


	4. The Invitation

Sam _liked_ Castiel. 

It was a strange concept; for a werewolf to enjoy a vampire’s company. They were, after all, hereditary enemies. However, Sam couldn’t help but be grateful to whomever had assigned Castiel as his mentor. 

Despite their rocky start, Castiel was an excellent teacher and Sam was never made to feel as though he was a burden or a hindrance to the other surgeon. Castiel always had time for him and encouraged questions of all sorts, even if they were based around his vampire nature. 

He had been speaking with the residents from other departments and he quickly came to realise just how lucky he was to have Castiel as his mentor. The Head of Neurology actually allowed him to get _involved_ with surgeries and from what he could garner from the other departments, this was quite a rare occurrence for residents. 

Castiel had also been blessed with seemingly eternal patience and a natural calmness in stressful situations. Sam was exceedingly thankful for both of these qualities since he knew he had a tendency to talk when he was panicking. However, Castiel always managed to soothe him and set him back on the correct path and honestly, Sam hoped that his time with Castiel would teach him how to be as calm and collected as the vampire. 

Another interesting point Sam had noticed about Castiel was that although he and the vampire had only known one another for a little over three weeks, Castiel was already rather… _protective_ of him. 

Like now, for instance, when one of their middle-aged, blonde-haired clients was screaming and cursing at him for informing her that her darling little Siamese with the broken tibia _really_ needs surgery since he can’t actually put his paw on the floor. 

“You aren’t an orthopaedic surgeon!” snarled the woman, ironically named ‘Karen’. “I came to you because of his eyes, which my neighbour, Loraine, told me was a neurological problem! Now, since you’re not qualified to talk to me about bones, I want you to fix his eyes!” 

Beside Sam, Castiel straightened to his full height, eyes narrowed dangerously. “Please lower your voice ma’am. There are stressed patients in the waiting room. I understand your concerns regarding Versace’s nystagmus, but his broken leg is the most pressing matter. He is in pain.” 

Sam had to stop his eyes from rolling. He still couldn’t quite believe that this woman had named her cat after a fashion designer. 

Actually, he absolutely could.

“ _He is not!”_ screeched Karen. “I know my own pet! He isn’t crying! He doesn’t yowl when I touch it! Now I will splint his leg myself _once you fix his eyes_.” 

“Depending on how long that leg has been broken and the type of fracture, a splint may not suffice,” Castiel said patiently. “I suggest having him x-rayed.” 

“You aren’t qualified to tell me about his bones!” Karen screamed and Sam ducked his head a little, his sensitive ears protesting the shrill frequency. 

Castiel caught the movement and subtly slid closer to him, and Sam could smell the first hints of anger rolling off his frame. 

“Lower your voice,” Castiel said coolly. “Dr. Winchester and I are both fully-qualified in all aspects of veterinary surgery. We _specialise_ in neurology, but that is not to say that we can’t diagnose a broken leg. Versace is in immense pain and it is our job to speak on behalf of his welfare. He is _suffering_.” 

“I want to speak to your boss,” Karen snapped. “Right now! You clearly have no interest in helping me.”

“I am the boss,” Castiel said coldly. “I am Head of the Neurology department.” 

“Then I want to speak to somebody higher!” Karen screeched, slamming her hand on the examination table and making Versace tremble in the corner of the room. “You and that incompetent _child_ ,” here, she jabbed a finger in Sam’s direction, “aren’t worth my time! You’re being deliberately uncooperative! You just want more money out of me! That’s all any of you vets want!” 

Sam dropped his gaze. The ‘incompetent’ comment had hurt, particularly when he already felt rather inadequate and useless in a specialism that he knew very little about. 

Castiel placed a hand on his shoulder and glowered at the woman. “I won’t allow abuse towards my staff. Please calm yourself before I am forced to have you removed from the premises.” 

“If you lay a single money-grabbing hand on me, I’ll sue you!” Karen hissed viciously. “I’ll get you struck off!”

Versace’s eyes were wide and fearful as he shook violently in the corner of the room. Taking pity on the creature, Sam subtly dropped his hand below his stool and Versace crept towards him. 

By his side, Castiel reeked of fury despite the cool mask of indifference he wore upon his face. “If I cannot reason with you, Mrs. Millan, and you cannot remain calm, I’m afraid there is nothing left to discuss. I ask you to register with another veterinary practice since we will no longer be serving you here. I wish you the best of luck.” 

“You can’t _fire_ me!” Karen roared.

“Goodbye, Mrs. Millan,” Castiel said flatly as he opened the cat carrier. 

Versace pressed his head into Sam’s hand and Sam gently scooped him up, smiling at his soft purrs. He placed Versace into the cat carrier and felt a pang of guilt that the poor creature would have to return home with this evil woman who refused to relieve his pain. Versace stared at him from inside his carrier with sad, round eyes. 

“I’m going to tell all my neighbours how awful you are!” Karen announced as she snatched Versace’s carrier off the table, rattling the poor cat around. “You don’t care about animals at all! You just want more money out of your clients! Well! I’m not that naïve! I’ll make sure none of my friends come here ever again!” 

“Good day, Mrs. Millan,” Castiel said stonily, returning to Sam’s side in a show of solidarity.

Karen stormed out of the hospital, cat carrier swinging in her grip. 

“Don’t let the door hit you on the way out,” Castiel muttered under his breath as he stalked towards the computer and entered a few notes on Mrs. Millan’s record, before promptly closing the account. 

“You all right?” Castiel asked softly as he turned his attention to Sam.

Sam nodded with a half-hearted smile and Castiel leaned against the table with a frown. “Don’t let her get to you. Some clients get difficult about money. If I had a dollar for every client whom had told me I’m ‘in it for the money’ and I ‘don’t care about animals’, I’d be sipping mojitos on a yacht somewhere in the Mediterranean.” 

Sam quirked a grin. “I actually feel sorry for the cat. He’s still in pain.”

“As do I,” agreed Castiel, slipping his phone out of his pocket. “What do you think I should do in this situation? An animal is suffering and a client is refusing to attend to it. What course of action should I take?” 

Sam stared at the phone. “…Are you going to call the SPCA?”

“Absolutely,” Castiel said, placing the phone to his ear. “You’re very welcome to stay and listen or you can grab your lunch, it’s up to you.” 

Sam smiled up at Castiel and placed his hands on his lap, making it clear that he wanted to stay. Castiel perched himself on the examination table and Sam found himself relaxing. This wasn’t the first time that Castiel had protected him from a difficult consultation. 

Only a few days ago, a dangerous German Shepherd had been in his consultation room and the owners had been unable to muzzle her. Sam had attempted to muzzle her for the clinical exam and immediately, the dog had lunged for him and knocked him to the floor. Panicked, the owners had released the lead (not that they had been doing particularly well in holding her anyway), and the feral canine had straddled Sam with a snarl. 

Castiel just happened to have been walking past and when he glanced into the room and saw the commotion, he sprinted towards the dog and swiped the muzzle from the table. He wrestled with her for a few moments as she snapped and growled at him, and she managed to graze his arm with her teeth before Castiel slammed a muzzle over her face. 

Arm dripping with blood, Castiel helped Sam to his feet and placed himself between the shaken werewolf and the ferocious dog, and calmly told the owner that it wasn’t appropriate to bring their animal to a teaching hospital if they couldn’t control it. Nevertheless, he finished the exam and after sending the owners home with some strong words of advice on dog training, he began to bandage his own arm with Vetrap. 

Now, Sam stared up at Castiel with a warm grin. He felt strangely _safe_ with the vampire; a similar sort of feeling to what he experienced around his own pack. He wondered if Castiel would appreciate the sentiment. Vampires had nests, right? That was like a pack, wasn’t it? 

Although, Sam had never heard Castiel talk about his nest. He frowned and wondered if Castiel had a nest. Surely, they wouldn’t approve of him befriending a werewolf _and_ a dragon? Maybe Castiel had no nest. Maybe they had abandoned him for liking humans. Maybe they had been slaughtered by hunters. 

Sam’s shoulders sagged. Nobody should be alone at this time of year – not even vampires.

“You going to the hospital’s Christmas party?” Sam asked casually once Castiel hung up the phone. 

Castiel wrinkled his nose. “I don’t really _do_ Christmas. Not exactly my sort of thing.”

Sam shrugged as he stood. “Hey, I get it. Must be tough with all the crosses and crucifixes hanging around. But… there might be some good food on? Could be fun?” 

Castiel tilted his head. “You don’t need me to come for you to have a good time, Sam. If you want to go, go.”

“Well… what are you doing this Christmas?” Sam asked quietly, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Got any plans?” 

Castiel pulled a face. “The same thing I do the rest of the year? Read, watch TV, avoid Christmas music, maybe research thoracolumbar decompression and eat Ben and Jerry’s? Why?” 

Sam deflated. “Oh. Right. Sounds like you have Christmas sorted, then…”

Heading towards the door, Castiel gave Sam an odd look. “Like I said, I don’t really like Christmas.” 

“Don’t you have a nest to spend the holidays with?” Sam blurted.

Castiel grimaced and Sam quickly tried to backtrack, but the vampire held up a hand. “My… _nest_ … is, ah… I try to avoid them these days. They don’t really… They’re a little… pushy.” 

“Cas, I’m sorry, that was insensitive. I shouldn’t have asked and it’s none of my business-”

“It’s fine, Sam,” Castiel sighed. “I get it. I’m a real grinch when it comes to Christmas and I lock myself away and try my best not to visit my family. I know how it sounds, trust me.” Castiel shook his head. “It’s just… I had a bad Christmas a few years ago and my family… they never really _forgave_ me for it. They didn’t understand and now… now they’re _insufferable_. They host this big Winter Ball over a weekend every year and they start asking all these invasive questions and telling me what a disappointment I am and how _mortified_ they were when I divorced Bart, and-” Castiel snapped his mouth shut with wide eyes. “I’m sorry, you didn’t need to hear that.” 

Sam’s gaze softened in understanding. So _that’s_ why Castiel didn’t like Christmas.

“Look, I know we haven’t known each other all that long, but… do you want to come over for Christmas dinner? My mom buys this enormous turkey every year and enough food to feed all of North America. We dress up the house and watch cheesy movies and open presents and it’s a little bit chaotic, but it’s nice enough. We mostly just eat and drink. You don’t have to say yes if it makes you uncomfortable, but you might enjoy it?” 

Castiel blinked. “Sam… you barely know me. And do you really think your pack will be happy sharing their Christmas with a vampire?” 

“They’ll come around,” Sam dismissed. “Besides, you’ve been really kind and patient with me. I won’t be bringing a _vampire_ over; I’ll be bringing my _friend.”_

Castiel’s cheeks tinged pink and Sam grinned. “If you want, I can tell them that I’m bringing my boss over to try and butter him up into giving me a Christmas bonus?” 

Castiel laughed. “I like the friend idea better.”

Sam beamed. “So, you’ll come?” 

“Will there be cake?”

“I’ll personally request it.” 

Castiel chuckled and nodded. “If you’re that desperate to pull me out of my _coffin_ … I suppose I could stop by.” 

Sam’s eyes crinkled with joy. “Do you actually sleep in a coffin?” he asked quietly as they left the room.

Castiel snorted and shook his head. “Of course not.” A pause. “I sleep hanging upside down in my bat form.” 

Sam stopped dead and turned wide eyes upon Castiel. “…Do you really?”

“I hope the rest of your family is this gullible,” Castiel laughed. “I might actually have a fun Christmas!”

* * *

Sam could smell Castiel’s anger the moment he joined the older surgeon in theatre. He had been fine that morning at rounds, so something must have happened in the time between then and now. Even Lisa was shooting him concerned glances, so his simmering fury must have been obvious on a human level. 

“What’s up?” Sam asked carefully as he peered at the patient. It seemed as though Castiel had only just finished draping – no incision had been made yet, so it was likely that the patient wasn’t the issue. 

“My ne- my family called,” Castiel growled, correcting himself before Lisa could question the odd word.

Sam frowned. He had a feeling he was going to dislike Castiel’s family by the end of today. 

“What have they done now?” Lisa asked with an equally disapproving frown. Apparently, Sam wasn’t the only one aware of the friction between Castiel and his nest. 

“They’re hosting another stupid Winter Ball,” Castiel growled.

“Don’t go,” Lisa snorted. “You complain about them every year.” 

“They’re hosting it at _my house_ ,” Castiel said through gritted teeth.

Lisa and Sam balked. “What?” they asked in unison. 

“Since I didn’t go to last year’s ball, they’re intent on forcing me to this year’s,” muttered Castiel as he began placing towel clamps. “Oh, and apparently, they’ve invited someone I ‘just have to meet’, which is code for ‘we’ve found a rich husband for you’.” 

Lisa wrinkled her nose in disgust as Sam’s brows pinched together. “Husband?”

Castiel flicked his gaze up to Sam. “Hello. I’m very gay. My family likes to find upper-class dicks to marry me off to. It’s become a Novak holiday tradition.” 

Sam bit back a snicker as Lisa hid her face in the yellow anaesthetic sheet.

“But that’s not the best part,” Castiel continued dramatically as he set the scalpel blade on its handle. “No, the best part is that they have a back-up plan in case I don’t hit it off with Mr. Rich Dick. They’ve also invited an even bigger and richer dick; my freshly-divorced, cheating ex-husband. Apparently, he’s willing to forgive me for divorcing him and now wants to ‘rekindle our relationship’ or whatever other poetic bullshit he told my parents.” 

Castiel stared at the scalpel with newfound wonder. “Do you think the techs will notice if one of these goes missing?” 

A smile pulled at Lisa’s lips. “You can’t shiv your ex, Cas. No matter how much he deserves it.”

“No? How about my parents?” 

Lisa shook her head, smile widening.

“That’s ridiculous,” huffed Sam. “Your parents can’t force you to host a party that you don’t even want to attend. Just call them and tell them no.” 

“My family will show up whether I allow them to or not,” Castiel grumbled. “They will host their ball whether I like it or not. They will allow everyone to stay over whether I threaten to leave or not.” 

Sam cocked his head to one side. “How big is your house?”

“Huge,” Lisa replied quickly. “It’s like one of those old, creepy manor houses. You know – like in _Dracula_ or something.” 

Castiel grimaced and Sam bit back a laugh at the irony.

“There must be a way to stop them,” Sam insisted. 

“There isn’t, trust me. They’re determined to have their party and my eternally single self will be forced to meet whichever business associate has licked my father’s ass the cleanest.” 

Lisa snorted and Sam was grateful for the mask he was wearing since he wasn’t convinced that Castiel would appreciate his wide grin. 

Castiel made his first incision and Sam watched idly.

“…What if you already had a boyfriend?” he asked slowly. 

Castiel huffed. “I would wear decidedly fewer clothes in bed.”

“I’m being serious,” Sam chuckled. “What if you already had a boyfriend? Your parents wouldn’t be as… _intense_ , right?” He handed Castiel a pair of Gelphi retractors. 

The vampire glanced up at him in amusement. “You offering, handsome?”

Sam’s eyes crinkled above his mask. “Actually, I am.” 

The retractors pinged off towards the far wall and clattered to the floor as Lisa choked on air.

“I’m sorry, I must have misheard,” Castiel said calmly. “I thought you’d just propositioned me in the middle of a laminectomy on an overweight Bulldog. What did you say?” 

Sam retrieved a fresh pair of retractors. “I asked if you’d like me to be your fake boyfriend at your parents’ party? I’ll even bring roses.” 

Castiel blinked for a few moments before nodding slowly. “That’s a terrible idea,” he said solemnly. “My parents would absolutely hate that I was dating my own resident.” _And a werewolf_ , he didn’t say. “They would be _ashamed_. They wouldn’t speak to me for at least two years, maybe three.” He glanced up at Sam. “The party is on the eighteenth. Be there for six.” 

Sam laughed as Castiel cheerily placed his new retractors.

* * *

The seventeenth was a Thursday, and that was the day that Sam shuffled up to Castiel with a guilty expression, hands wringing into his scrub top. 

“I can’t come,” he murmured apologetically. “They’ve put me on out-of-hours. Apparently, Gadreel called in sick.” 

Castiel sagged, looking crestfallen. “I can try to get them to rearrange?”

Sam shook his head. “I practically begged but there’s nothing they can do on such short notice. They’re short on staff.” 

Castiel closed his eyes with a sigh. “I was actually looking forward to this year’s ball.” He opened his eyes and offered Sam a sad smile. “Thank you for trying. You’re a good friend.” 

“I do have a solution,” Sam said carefully. “Not sure what you’ll think of it though.”

“Does it involve turning me into a werewolf so I get kicked out of the family?” 

Sam managed a smile as he shook his head. “It does involve a werewolf though. My brother, to be precise. He’s free this weekend.” 

Castiel tilted his head. “And… he’s okay with pretending to be my date to my parents’ party?”

Here, Sam winced. “Um, not exactly. I haven’t asked him yet. He’s… ah… not exactly fond of vampires. And he’s… well… he’s straight.” 

“Excellent,” Castiel deadpanned. “So, that’s a ‘no’ from him.”

“No, wait,” Sam huffed before Castiel turned away. “I can get him to come, trust me. He’ll be there as long as it’s okay with you.” 

Castiel rubbed the back of his neck. “At this point, I’ll take a rotting corpse over being forced to _mingle_ with my ex.” 

Sam fished in his pocket for his phone and brought up one of the more sensible pictures of his brother before showing it to Castiel. 

“This is Dean. He likes pie, classic cars, classic rock, and alcohol. Oh, and buffet tables. He’s a mechanic with his own garage that he took over from our uncle Bobby. That’s… about all there is to him.” 

Castiel squinted at the photograph. “Oh, he’s entirely my type.”

Sam forced down his laughter. “Yeah, well, good luck. He only sleeps with things that have breasts. And he’s not all that fond of bats.” 

“Bats are adorable,” Castiel winked as he straightened. He paused and tilted his head. “Wait, does this mean that you’re not as straight as I thought you were?” 

Sam laughed warmly. “Yeah, definitely not. Although, I’m not quite as gay as you.”

Castiel’s lips drew downwards in a vaguely impressed expression. “I see. Is your brother… accepting of your… choices?” 

Sam quirked a lopsided smile. “Dean’s not homophobic.”

“Thank goodness,” sighed Castiel, sagging slightly in relief. “Wasn’t sure if you’d told him. That… could have been awkward.” Castiel scowled miserably. “Not that this whole affair isn’t awkward.” 

Sam leaned forward to squeeze Castiel’s shoulder. “Relax. Dean’s a surprisingly good actor and he’s had to play the fake boyfriend more times than I care to remember. Granted, he’s always been at the end of a girl’s arm, but how different can it be?” 

“Depends… were any of his girlfriends blood-sucking vampires?” Castiel asked forlornly.

Sam winced and shook his head. “Well… no. But still…” 

“And did any of them have parents who invited ex-husbands and potential wealthy love interests to parties that said girlfriends were unwilling to host but were forced to anyway?” 

Sam pulled a face. “Yeah, definitely not. But… this’ll work out fine; I just know it. You need to distract your parents and Dean will do pretty much anything for free food. You’ll have fun, I promise.” 

Finally, Castiel allowed himself to smile. “Well, if your brother is anything like you, I’m sure you’re right. Thank you, Sam. You didn’t have to help me with this.” 

“You’re my friend,” Sam shrugged. “And it sounds like you’re gonna need all the help you can get with your nest.” 

Castiel grimaced and nodded. “Wish me luck.”

“Take videos,” Sam ordered. 

Castiel chuckled and nodded. “Allow me to treat you for lunch?”

Sam perked up. “Can’t say no to that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehe and so the story begins ;)


	5. Meet The Parents

“I don’t understand why I couldn’t drive myself,” scowled Dean, tugging at his suit uncomfortably. Watching Sam drive the Impala made his skin crawl. 

“Because, I don’t want you drinking at this party and then trying to take the car for a joyride at three in the morning. The last thing I need right now is you getting into a crash at my friend’s party,” Sam huffed in a way that suggested he was hiding something. 

Dean narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Remind me again why _I’m_ going to _your_ friend’s party when you’re working?” 

“I’ve already told you,” huffed Sam. “My friend needs a fake date to stop their parents from trying to fix them up with an ex-husband. All you have to do is pretend to be a caring boyfriend. Pull out a chair, open a door, hold hands… simple stuff. Plus, there’s going to be a huge buffet, live music, and an open bar. You’ll have fun even if you don’t know anyone.” 

Dean rolled his shoulders. He still couldn’t shake the feeling that Sam wasn’t telling him something, although the open bar and buffet sounded awesome. 

“This friend of yours… she hot?”

Sam startled. “What?” They turned off into what appeared to be a long drive lined with identically tall conifers. 

“Makes things easier if I’m at least physically attracted to the girl,” Dean shrugged. “So… she hot?”

Sam licked his lips as they passed between extravagant fountains and… headstones? Dean balked at a statue of a stern-looking Victorian-era woman, a heavy stone cape slung around her shoulders. 

“Uh… Sam?”

“…They’re hot,” Sam said awkwardly, also looking slightly disturbed by the graveyard they were travelling through. “Not really my type, but…” 

“Okay, why do you keep saying ‘ _they’_?” Dean asked as he turned to his brother with a thick scowl. “What are you hiding?” He looked around. “And why does your friend live in a creepy graveyard?” 

Sam cleared his throat and said nothing until they pulled up to an impressive manor house. It loomed above them with grey stone and huge, ornate windows, and ivy crawled up the sides of the house as though nature was trying to reclaim the land it was built upon. Golden light lit the house from below, making it seem taller and more mysterious than it already was, and huge chimneys towered above them like turrets, puffing thick plumes of smoke into the darkening sky. 

It looked like something out of seventeenth-century England.

“Sam,” Dean said in alarm. “You sure you really know this friend?” 

A man in navy blue tails and a silver waist coat brightened upon spotting the Impala and headed towards them with a smile. 

“Don’t tell me this place has a valet service,” groaned Dean. “Sam, this really isn’t the sort of party I fit into.”

“He’s not the valet,” Sam mumbled as the man drew closer. “He’s my friend.” 

Dean whipped around to face Sam with wide eyes. _“What?!”_

“Also, don’t cause a scene when you smell him, okay? He really doesn’t need that right now.” 

Dean felt as though his eyes were about to pop out of his skull. “What do you mean? What’s wrong with his scent? Is he sick? Sam, who have you set me up with?!” 

His brother opened the door without acknowledging any of his questions. “Cas! You look good!” Sam grinned. 

The stranger – Cas – chuckled. “Thank you. I tried to convince my parents to hold a more casual affair but, as usual, I was ignored. They will insist on tradition.” 

“Well, you suit tradition,” Sam smiled before subtly gesturing for Dean to get out of the car. “This is my brother; Dean. Dean, this is my friend; Castiel.” 

The moment Dean stepped out of the car, he was hit by the offensive scent. Immediately, he bristled. “You’re a vampire,” he accused. 

Castiel blinked calmly at him, clasping his hands behind his back. “Yes. My sincerest apologies.”

“Get back in the car, Sam,” Dean growled. “We’re going home. And we’re going to have _words_ about your choice in friends.” 

Sam locked the door before he could reach for the handle again. “You promised you’d help,” Sam reminded.

“No, I promised I’d help your female _human_ friend who needed a date to her parents’ party. I did not sign up for a male vampire hosting a seventeenth-century ball in the middle of a graveyard!” Dean narrowed his eyes. “Also, _Castiel…_ Isn’t that your boss’ name? Is he your _boss_?” 

Sam rolled his eyes. “I really don’t have time for this. I need to get to work and you said you’d help.”

“I’m not helping a vampire!” Dean hissed. 

“Two nights,” Sam huffed. “That’s all you have to do. Just put on a show for two nights and I _promise_ I’ll pay you back.” 

“I’m going to get eaten here, Sam!” Dean snapped, growling lowly when Castiel stepped forwards.

“I won’t allow any harm to come to you, Dean,” Castiel promised quietly. “I know that this isn’t the most ideal situation, but I would really appreciate it if you could help me out. I don’t fancy a whole weekend of being forced to _bond_ with my lying, cheating ex-husband and my family can be absolutely insufferable at these sort of things… I promise I’ll find a way to repay you. Anything you ask for.” 

“You know what bothers me the most about this?” Dean snarled, whirling on Castiel. “The fact that you’re my baby brother’s boss and originally, you were going to have him posing as your date. What other things are you forcing him to do so he can keep his job?” 

Castiel stiffened as Sam hissed at his brother.

“Dean! Stop it! Cas isn’t like that!” 

“You sure?” Dean growled. “Creepy divorced boss preying on younger men and taking them back to his old, rotting mansion on ‘fake dates’… seems pretty black and white to me.” 

“Sam offered,” Castiel warned in a tone that had Dean baring his teeth. “I would never take advantage of any of my subordinates.” 

“Why don’t I believe that, vampire?” Dean whispered.

Castiel narrowed his eyes and took a step backwards. “Perhaps this was a poor idea. My expectations were obviously too high regarding your prejudiced, crude brute of a brother. You should take him home to his comfort zone. He clearly can’t cope with challenging situations.” 

Dean’s hackles would have been raised had he been his canine form. “You don’t know anything about me, buddy! I face more challenging situations on a daily basis than you do in an entire year! And who are you calling a brute? I’m not the one who feeds off people’s necks!” 

“Neither do I,” Castiel said coldly before glancing at Sam. “I’m afraid Dean wouldn’t fit in very well here. I don’t think he’d be able to handle the pressure. You should spare him the embarrassment and take him home.” 

“Hold up,” Dean snarled, jabbing a finger into Castiel’s chest. “I can handle a bit of traditional crap from a few snotty vamps. Don’t start looking down your nose at us now!” 

Castiel curled his lip in disgust. “I highly doubt that, wolf. Have you learned how to use a knife and fork? I’ll be most humiliated if you start shoving your entire face into the entrées.” 

Dean puffed his chest out angrily. “You listen here, you arrogant bloodsucker. I can fit in with your archaic family _and_ be the damn best fake boyfriend you’ve ever had! I can step out of my comfort zone for a couple of nights, you overgrown _leech_.” 

Castiel squared his jaw, eyes like slits. “Then prove it, dog.”

“Fine,” snarled Dean before turning to his brother with a fiery gaze. “Go to work, Sam. Pick me up on Sunday afternoon.” 

“If you don’t call a taxi before then,” muttered Castiel under his breath, which earned him a dirty glower from Dean. 

“Oh, I’m staying,” Dean hissed. “You’re gonna be begging to get rid of me.”

“We’ll see,” retorted Castiel hotly. 

Dean growled and turned to Sam once more, missing the cheeky wink and smirk that Castiel threw at his brother. Sam bit back a smile and nodded solemnly at Dean. 

“Just… be careful,” Sam said with a frown. “I don’t want a call from A and E telling me that you’ve tried to murder each other.” 

“No promises,” grumbled Dean as Castiel fought back a grin.

Sam unloaded Dean’s case and gave his brother one last apologetic look. Dean rolled his eyes, missing Sam’s stern glance at Castiel. _Don’t wind him up too much_ , it said. 

_No promises_ , Castiel’s widening grin responded, before it fell into a light frown when Dean turned to glare at him. 

“…Try to have fun,” sighed Sam as he slid into the car.

They watched him drive into the darkness in a tense silence. Then Castiel turned to Dean with a small smile. 

“Thank you for doing this, Dean. I understand how uncomfortable you must be, about to walk into a nest of vampires and all… but I promise I’m not that bad. Nor do I think you uncivilised or aggressive. I had to get you to stay somehow; I’m afraid I’m just that desperate to have someone here to spare me the agony of speaking to my ex or whoever else has caught my parents’ fancy with their unnecessary bank figures.” 

Dean blinked, surprised by the soft tone and seemingly genuine smile. He narrowed his eyes warily. “Yeah, well, it’s still weird. You asking Sam to pretend to be your fake lover. You’re his _boss_. Do you really think it’s appropriate?” 

Castiel sagged a little. “No. Not at all, actually. But as I said, he offered and I’m desperate. When you meet my family, maybe you’ll understand.” 

“Woah, we’re gonna have to set some ground rules,” Dean huffed, crossing his arms. “Rule one: I will not sleep with you.”

Castiel wrinkled his nose. “Obviously. Why would you even think about that?”

Dean shrugged. “I don’t know you at all. I’m still not entirely certain you won’t drug me and keep me locked away in your dungeon for the next few weeks.” 

“You have a vivid imagination,” Castiel said drily before shaking his head. “No, Dean, I have no intention of sleeping with you or… _torturing_ you. Or feeding on you, in case that was rule number two.” 

Dean tilted his chin. “It was. No tapping my jugular.”

Castiel rolled his eyes. 

“Rule three: No poisoning me or drugging me or _hunting_ me. Same goes to your nest. I’m not being hunted for sport again.” 

Castiel’s eyebrows raced to his hairline. _“Again?_ You’ve been hunted?”

“Crazy ex-girlfriend and her monster-hunting family,” Dean huffed, shuddering at the memory. “Had to pull a bow out of my ass.” 

Castiel bit back a laugh. “Right. No hunting.”

“Rule four,” Dean said seriously. “No falling in love with me.” 

At this rule, Castiel scoffed. “That one’s going to be such a challenge.”

Dean narrowed his eyes. “Hey, I mean it. This isn’t my first rodeo. Sometimes, people get swept off their feet by the act and they start thinking it’s all real. Just remember, I’m playing a part. It’s all fake; I’m not actually falling for you and we’re not in some Hallmark romance where I realise that you’re my true love in under a day. It’s just an act.” 

Castiel rolled his eyes. “I’ll try to remember. Anything else?”

“They’re the big four,” Dean said, crossing his arms. “I’ll let you know if I think of any more.” 

Castiel nodded in understanding.

“What about you?” Dean grumbled. “You got any rules for me?” 

Castiel glanced at the house. “Just one. Do anything you can to prevent my parents from locking me and my ex – or whatever other gremlin they’ve hand-picked for me – in a room together. Because given the chance, they absolutely will lock me in a room and throw away the key until they hear wedding bells.” 

Dean stared at the vampire in surprise and Castiel smiled nervously.

“Honestly, I don’t care if you act like the perfect gentleman or do everything you can to ruin this party, but please, I’m _begging_ you… don’t leave me alone with Bartholomew. I can’t take being alone with a man I wasted seven years of my life with after knowing that he spent three of those years raising a family with someone else.” 

A slither of pity wormed its way into Dean’s heart, but he pulled a face to mask it.

“You really wouldn’t care if I tried to ruin your party?” 

Castiel laughed a little hysterically. “Are you kidding? I didn’t even want to go to this party! My parents called me a week ago and said that they were hosting their annual ball at my house and they were bringing someone they wanted me to meet _as well as my ex_. As usual, my protests went ignored and suddenly, I’ve got the whole family _sleeping_ at my house! I’ve been expected to decorate and buy food for everyone and when I refused, my parents and sister _took my credit cards_ and bought everything anyway! I don’t even know how they got the codes! I’m being forced to serve food and drink at my own house in this… ridiculous suit!” 

Dean watched as Castiel tugged at his shirt collar and he slowly came to terms with the fact that perhaps this evening wouldn’t be quite as horrific as he’d first assumed. 

“Okay, let’s get one thing straight first,” Dean said, voice low as a lady appeared on the porch, seemingly looking for someone. “I’m into girls and only girls, but I can be a convincing actor if the gig is worth it. Sam doesn’t really know this, but I’ve played boyfriend for a couple of desperate dudes and their parents honestly couldn’t tell it was all fake. Now, usually, I’d sit down with you and make up a whole story, but we haven’t got time for that. So, what are you going for here? You want me to be head over heels for you or are we in a new relationship? Am I a suave dick like your ex or am I a disappointment to my parents? Give me some details, Cas.” 

Castiel ran a hand through his hair, gaze flicking to the woman now heading towards them with a thick scowl. 

“I… I don’t know. I’ve never done this before. I just… I just really don’t want to be here.”

The woman was beside Castiel before Dean had a chance to respond and she scowled at Castiel with pursed lips. 

“What are you doing out here, Castiel? You have guests waiting to be served! You should be inside with your family and-” she cut herself off abruptly and scowled at Dean. “And what is a mangy mutt like you doing at _my_ ball?” 

“Mother!” Castiel hissed indignantly.

Dean offered her a charming grin as a character began to take shape in his mind. He quickly attached himself to Castiel’s side, snaking an arm around his waist. 

“Lovely to make your acquaintance ma’am,” Dean grinned tipping his head slightly. “I’m Cas’ _lover_.”

The woman’s jaw dropped and Castiel coughed softly beside him, hiding his shock at the sudden proximity. 

“Dean Winchester,” Dean offered, stretching out his hand.

“Absolutely not,” the woman hissed, rounding on Castiel. “You cannot do this to us. You cannot bring a _werewolf_ into the house. Get rid of him this instant. I won’t allow it.” 

Dean hid his surprise well. He hadn’t expected Castiel’s mother to outright reject him before he’d even made it into the house. He was about to make an attempt at winning her over when Castiel wrapped an arm around him and lifted his chin. 

“I can bring whomever I please into _my own_ house. Dean stays or we both leave. The choice is yours, mother.” 

“This is a disgrace,” the woman snapped. “An absolute disgrace. What about Metatron? I brought him here for you to meet. He’s a Wall Street banker! He has so many more prospects than this… poodle.” 

Dean bit back a growl and plastered on a wide grin. “Excuse me ma’am, but you don’t even know what I do.”

“Well, what do you do?” snapped Castiel’s mother. 

Dean contemplated lying. He contemplated giving himself a high-profile job with a six-figure salary, but he caught sight of Castiel’s weary frown and decided that he didn’t want to fit in with the vampire’s family. 

“I’m a greasy mechanic from the middle of nowhere, Kansas. I spend my days covered in engine oil and sweat at my retired uncle’s garage.” 

Castiel’s mother wrinkled her nose, appalled and took a step backwards as though she could still smell the sweat and grease clinging to his skin. 

“Mmm… and I never get tired of cleaning oil out of _every crack,”_ purred Castiel suggestively as he pressed deeper into Dean’s side. 

His mother looked ill and she closed her eyes in defeat. “Your grandparents would be rolling in their graves if they could see you now, Castiel. You used to be such a wonderful child and now you do nothing but bring us shame. Fine, soil my ball with the stench of wet dog. Do whatever you like, Castiel. I can’t stop you.” 

She marched towards the house at a brisk pace, dress glittering blacks and golds in the gentle moonlight.

“Wow,” said Dean, a grin pulling at his lips. “Your mom’s a real peach.” 

“Always has been,” Castiel smiled tightly. “Her name’s Naomi, by the way. Since she never introduced herself before degrading you. And my father’s name is Charles in case he launches straight into tearing you apart, which he will. You can also call him _Chuck_ if you want him to hate you.” 

Dean barked out a laugh as he untangled himself from the vampire. “Noted. Loved your ‘crack’ comment, by the way. Really brought out the repulsion in your mom’s eyes.” 

Castiel chuckled and smoothed out his tails. “I might actually enjoy this ball for once. You seem like a breath of fresh air.” 

Dean felt himself beginning to relax and he nodded in idle agreement as he glanced over Castiel properly. “Hey, maybe this weekend won’t be as awful as I expected.” 

Castiel beamed at him before grabbing Dean’s case and gesturing to the house. “After you.”

* * *

“Don’t eat the red velvet cake,” Castiel whispered into his ear as Dean worked his way through the buffet table. 

Dean eyed the beautiful cake suspiciously. “Is it made with actual blood?” he asked warily, shooting Castiel a hard glare. 

The vampire shook his head and loaded more prawns onto his plate. “Wolfsbane. Mother grates the petals over the top of the cake to give colour. Vampires are immune to its toxins.” 

Dean blinked and quickly lowered his head. “Thanks,” he mumbled embarrassedly, because he’d accused Castiel of baking with blood when in actual fact, the vampire had only been looking out for him. 

He glanced between his half-filled plate and the rest of the table. “Any other toxins I should be aware of?” he asked quietly. 

Castiel furrowed his brows thoughtfully. “Not that I know of, but perhaps I should ask the chef?”

Dean flicked his gaze to him gratefully and Castiel gestured for the wolf to follow him into the kitchens. 

“Balthazar?” Castiel called as they ducked into a bustling room filled with waitstaff and cooks. “I have a question about the food,” he continued as they dodged a woman whose arms were full of dirty dishes and cutlery. 

“Then ask it,” demanded a lightly accented voice from… somewhere.

Castiel glanced around, looking equally perplexed. “Other than the red velvet cake, does anything else contain wolfsbane?” 

“The macaroons. But why do you care?”

Dean startled and whirled around to face the narrow-eyed man peering at him from less than a foot away. 

“You’ve brought a dog into my kitchen,” said the chef, looking rather irritated. “Castiel, why is there a werewolf in my kitchen?” 

“It’s not _your_ kitchen,” huffed Castiel. “It’s mine. And this is my boyfriend; Dean, whom happens to be rather sensitive to wolfsbane.” 

Balthazar raked his gaze over Dean, unimpressed. “Your family isn’t going to like this.”

“I’m aware,” muttered Castiel as he grabbed Dean’s arm and led him towards the door. 

“You might want to consider changing his glass. All the flutes are made with hecatolite,” called Balthazar before he vanished into the chaos of the kitchen once more. 

Castiel cocked an eyebrow and looked to Dean curiously.

“Moonstone,” Dean offered quietly. “If we touch it, it can force us to transform rather… abruptly.” 

Eyes widening in understanding, Castiel nodded. “I will change your glass once we take our seats.”

“Thanks,” Dean mumbled again as he headed towards the buffet table once more. If there was one upside to this vampire ball, it was the fact that they knew what made up a good buffet. There were meats and cheeses and pastas and various sauces like black bean and sweet and sour, and Dean was thankful that vampires seemed to enjoy food almost as much as werewolves did. 

Dean came to a thick, sweet-smelling red sauce and was about to pour it over his sticky chicken when Castiel quickly gripped his wrist. 

“Don’t eat that,” Castiel hissed urgently.

Dean frowned. It smelled delicious even if he didn’t know what it was. “Why not?” 

“Pig’s blood,” Castiel murmured as he gently placed the ladle back in its container. “All the foods and sauces in gold dishes contain animal blood.” 

Dean subtly glanced down the table, eyes bulging at the number of golden dishes. “Aw man… I picked up the sweet and sour pork.” 

Castiel held out his own plate for Dean and Dean noticed that it was devoid of sauces and any foods containing blood. 

“Swap with me?” Castiel offered and Dean hastily did so, thankful that the vampire seemed to share his meal tastes. 

They left the buffet table and headed towards some free seats and as Dean settled down, Castiel removed his champagne flute and returned with a pure crystal one. 

The table seated twelve and by the time Castiel had tucked himself in, Dean was being glowered at by ten pairs of eyes. 

“Not really a big champagne fan, myself,” Dean said, resolutely ignoring their gazes and the way his skin crawled at being stared at by so many hostile vampires. 

“Neither am I,” Castiel said cheerily as he grabbed both of their glasses and tipped their contents into the exotic plant behind him. Then, he set the flutes delicately on the table and produced a rather large hip flask from inside his suit, before pouring a measure of rich amber liquid into each glass. 

Dean laughed in disbelief as Castiel slipped the flask into his pocket and grasped his flute.

“Cheers,” he winked. 

Dean took a sip of the drink and closed his eyes blissfully at the explosion of oak and fruit and herbs on his tongue. It tasted like an expensive cognac. 

“That is _heavenly_ ,” Dean praised, chest bursting with warmth as the drink travelled deeper into his body. It was like curling up in front of the fire with a hot drink after a long day of fixing cars in the snow and ice. 

Castiel smiled approvingly. “I’ve got an older vintage that I’m saving for when I take up alcoholism. Depending on how this evening progresses, perhaps you’d like to share it with me?” 

Dean bit back a snort and sipped at his flute again. If he wasn’t too careful, he might find himself enjoying Castiel’s company. 

“It’s rude to stare,” Castiel said suddenly, turning a tight smile on the rest of their scowling table. The other vampires jumped and quickly dropped their gazes to their meals. 

A grin threatened Dean’s lips and he realised why Sam enjoyed having Castiel as his mentor. No wonder his brother loved his job. 

“It’s rude to speak so unkindly to your guests and sit at a table that wasn’t assigned to you. Particularly when you’re supposed to be serving drinks,” announced a voice behind them and Castiel stiffened and turned to face a rather small man with a greying beard and slicked-back hair. He wore red suit tails with an ivory waistcoat and black trousers, and his eyes were almost as blue as Cas’, narrowed as they were. 

“Father,” Castiel greeted coolly.

“Castiel,” the man said stiffly before shooting Dean a distasteful glance. “I see your mother was telling the truth. You did bring an animal to dinner.” 

Dean plastered on a smile and offered his hand as he stood. “Dean Winchester at your service. You’ve raised an amazing son.” 

Castiel rose to his feet slowly and seemed surprised when Dean linked their hands.

“I’m lucky to know him,” Dean sighed, squeezing Castiel’s hand and staring into his eyes like a lovesick puppy. 

Castiel’s father ignored him and shifted his attention to his son instead. “Drinks, Castiel? Come on, you have a job to do.” 

“I’m in my own house, at a party I didn’t want to host nor attend,” Castiel growled lowly. “I am _not_ serving drinks to any of these people.” 

“ _These people_ are your nest, Castiel,” his father retorted warningly. “You _will_ treat them with respect.”

“I don’t want them here,” hissed Castiel. “I think this whole farce is obscene and abhorrent. I want everyone _out_.” 

“Do not test me, Castiel,” his father threatened quietly. “It’s bad enough you’ve brought this mutt in here, but if you continue to humiliate us, there will be consequences. Now, either start serving drinks or go and speak with Metatron. He’s sitting beside your mother. He’s a very well-respected banker from Wall Street and he would quite like to meet you.” 

Dean cast his gaze to the sleazeball sitting beside Naomi. He was far older than Castiel, with wiry curls and facial hair that didn’t quite suit him. He looked well-acquainted with the Twinkie aisle in Walmart and there was a stain on his tie that he was doing a poor job at hiding. He smiled as though he hadn’t quite figured out what a smile was. 

“I’ll serve drinks,” Castiel grated out.

“Take your pet with you,” his father huffed. “Might as well make him useful.” 

“Dean. His name’s Dean,” growled Castiel as he dragged the werewolf away from the table and the smug smirks of the surrounding vampires. 

“Nice to meet you, Chuck!” Dean chirped with a mock salute as he internally mourned the loss of his dinner. He felt a thread of satisfaction when Castiel’s father flinched at the nickname. 

“It’s not that bad,” Dean said softly as Castiel began collecting glasses and placing them on a crystal tray before filling them rather aggressively with champagne. 

“It’s archaic,” snarled Castiel. “This whole ball is archaic and ridiculous and _disgusting_.”

Dean glanced over the sea of dancing and conversing and nibbling vampires. The extravagant hall was decorated only slightly pompously and the string quartet in the corner of the room played music only two centuries out of date. The food was nice enough if one ignored the animal blood and the lights were dimmed just enough to be considered cosy. All things considered, it wasn’t as archaic as Dean had expected. 

“It could be worse,” Dean shrugged. “Could be a lot worse.”

“Wait for tomorrow,” Castiel grumbled. “You haven’t seen their depraved little toast.” 

“It can’t be that bad,” chuckled Dean.

Castiel smiled bitterly. “Don’t drink the wine.” 

Dean pulled a face. “Let me guess… cow’s blood?”

“Wait,” Castiel muttered darkly. 

They picked up their trays and shuffled around the hall, and each vampire they served wrinkled their nose at Dean or made an insulting remark about his werewolf nature. A few of the bolder vampires actually unsheathed their teeth for him. 

Expecting the response, Dean took it in stride and merely smiled charmingly at them, but by the end of their rounds, he could smell Castiel’s anger. 

“Great to see my nest being as supportive as ever,” bit out Castiel as he tossed the empty tray on the bar top. 

Dean side-eyed him. “We’re not actually together, y’know. Why do you care what they’re saying about me? Once this weekend is over, we’ll probably never see each other again.” 

Castiel heaved a sigh. “That’s not the point. The point is that if I ever did fall for someone – werewolf, human, or any other supernatural creature that wasn’t a vampire – this is how my nest would treat them. This is what they’d have to put up with from my so-called _family_.” 

Dean tilted his head curiously and swept his gaze over the mingling vampires. “And is that a possibility? You falling for someone who isn’t a vampire?” 

Castiel frowned at him. “Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”

Dean shrugged. “I’ve never heard of a monster going interspecies. Not long-term, anyway. Human relationships can get messy because of the whole ‘not believing in the supernatural’ thing, and most humans are afraid of us once they learn what we’re capable of. When it comes to relationships between different kinds of monsters, things get… difficult. Differing cultures, differing abilities… I mean, look at us,” Dean said as he turned to face Castiel. “If you bite me, your venom infects every crack and crevice until my skin literally rots away. If I bite you, your blood starts to evaporate and you boil from the inside out.” Dean shook his head. “Interspecies is complicated.” 

Castiel scowled. “But there are ways around those complications. Take your example – the only reason I would inject you with my venom would be if I was _aiming_ to hurt you. If I started mouthing on your arm now, you wouldn’t be affected because it wouldn’t be my goal to kill you. When we drink from animals, you don’t see a bunch of fanged deer attacking the local villages – we can control our venom.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Are you going to tell me that you can’t control who you turn into a werewolf?” 

Dean ducked his head and rubbed the back of his neck. “Ok, point made. But the fact that we _can_ hurt each other is what makes interspecies so _risky_. One bad argument, a slight lapse in control… that’s all it would take.” 

“And humans can quite easily grab a knife or a gun and slaughter one another. It doesn’t stop them from forming relationships. Why should it stop us?” Castiel huffed. “We have control of our own actions.” 

Dean contemplated the argument for a moment before shrugging. Perhaps Castiel had a point. Still, he would never consider a long-term relationship with anyone who wasn’t a werewolf, but that wasn’t to say he couldn’t be friends with a non-werewolf. He eyed Castiel thoughtfully. Strangely, he could imagine himself being friends with this particular vampire. 

“Cassie?”

Dean startled and turned to the newcomer. His eyes widened at the red-haired woman; she was young and strikingly beautiful and her evening gown trailed over the floor like a black and red wedding dress, giving the impression that she glided to her destination rather than walked. If she hadn’t been a vampire, Dean might have flirted with her. 

“Hello, Anna,” Castiel sighed. “You’re looking as elegant as ever.”

Anna beamed at him before her brows pinched together when she turned her attention to Dean. 

“Is it true, brother?” she whispered a fraction too loudly. “Is this werewolf really your…?”

“Lover?” Dean grinned as he slipped his arm around Castiel’s waist. “Afraid so. Dean Winchester,” he said, offering his hand for the third time that evening. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

Anna smiled tightly but did not shake his hand. Instead, she returned her focus to Castiel, leaving Dean to deflate slightly at yet another rejection. This was becoming exhausting. 

He could smell Castiel’s ripening fury.

“Have you spoken to Bartholomew yet?” Anna asked excitedly. “He’s been waiting for you. I think he’s going to ask Father if he can try a second courtship with you. Isn’t it wonderful? You two always did make such a perfect couple!” 

Castiel ground his teeth together. “Except for the part where he cheated on me for three years? And the part where he didn’t actually love me – he just liked the idea of the Novak inheritance?” 

Anna frowned, waving her hand in easy dismissal. “Don’t be childish, brother. Of _course,_ he loves you. He just… made a little mistake; one you refuse to forgive him for. Honestly, breaking off your mating was a little extreme for one mistake, don’t you think?” 

Castiel huffed an exasperated laugh. “Anna. If Ezekiel revealed that he had cheated on you with another woman and had started a family with them three years ago, would you be so easy to forgive him? Would you not wonder how much of your relationship was a lie?” 

Anna cast her gaze to her mate, whom was waiting patiently for her at their table, conversing every so often with his mother-in-law. She whirled back around with a smile. 

“He’s not the sort to do something like that, but he didn’t break off our mating when he found out about my summer fling with Michael. He was a little upset, but he didn’t go and _divorce_ me. I just promised not to do it again and we’re both fine. Really, Cassie… you were a bit dramatic.” 

Castiel paled and Dean balked at Anna. Just how messed up was Castiel’s family?

“You cheated on Ezekiel with your _secretary?”_ Castiel managed, sounding horrified. 

Anna shrugged. “It was a while ago. It was just sex. We’re both over it.”

“And what about poor Ezekiel?” Castiel hissed. “Have you even considered how he must feel?” 

Anna frowned. “Well, look at him. He’s fine. Like I said, I didn’t _love_ Michael. He wasn’t even a vampire. It meant nothing. Zeke knows that.” 

Castiel narrowed his eyes coldly. “I promise you that it meant something to your mate. I guarantee it. He’s just too polite to say anything.” 

Anna rolled her eyes. “No, brother. You’re just dramatic and look far too deeply into these sorts of things. Not everyone overreacts in the way you did. Now _please_ , just talk to Bartholomew. You might realise that he still loves you… and maybe you’ll understand how good he is for you.” 

Fury rolled off Castiel in thick, violent waves and Dean tightened his grip on the vampire to keep him grounded. 

“Hey, here’s an idea,” Dean chirped, feeling a little offended that Anna had ignored his presence entirely. “How about Cas sticks with his _actual_ boyfriend – the one who wouldn’t cheat on him or start a family behind his back? You know… this one? The one who’s _standing right here_.” 

Anna’s gaze crawled up and down his body and disdain graced her features. “Or,” she said, once again turning to Castiel. “You could take your relationship seriously and be with someone worth your time? Like Bartholomew, for example. He’s chatting to Father, over there. Doesn’t he look amazing?”

Biting back a laugh of disbelief, Dean decided that he was going to take his role as fake boyfriend to the next level. This family was actually beginning to wear on his nerves at their easy dismissal of Castiel’s thoughts and feelings and Dean couldn’t quite believe it, but he was starting to get angry on Cas’ behalf. Did nobody care what Castiel had to say? Did they always take advantage of him like this? They had literally showed up at his house, taken his credit cards, and started bullying him into doing as they commanded, and now they were trying to force him into an unsalvageable relationship with his ex. What kind of family were they?

“Yeah, that’s really interesting,” Dean said airily before shifting his full attention onto Castiel with a warm smile. “You promised me a tour of the house,” he purred, raising a hand to cup Castiel’s cheek tenderly. “I’d really like to see your bedroom.”

Castiel’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second before his brain apparently caught up with the escape offer. He gently grasped the hand cupped around his cheek and grazed his lips over Dean’s knuckles, raising his gaze slowly to meet Dean’s in a perfect execution of bedroom eyes.

“Anything for you,” Castiel breathed heatedly.

A strange tingle raced through Dean’s sternum and he blinked in surprise before shooting Anna a wide smirk. 

“Tell Bart we said hi,” he winked before he dragged Castiel towards the door. As they turned their backs on a steaming Anna, Dean slapped his palm over Castiel’s ass and squeezed in full view of his sister. 

Castiel choked and nearly tripped over his own feet, but managed to right himself at the last moment as Anna made a noise of distaste. She whirled on her heel and stalked away, unaware that her own mate was biting back a chuckle at the exchange. 

“Sorry,” Dean whispered as they made their way upstairs.

To his delight, Castiel laughed and shook his head. “No need. That was some stellar acting. Hopefully my sister won’t approach us for the remainder of the evening. Or the whole weekend, if we’re lucky.” 

“I can’t believe they treat you like that, man,” Dean said, shaking his head. “The way they speak to you… it’s almost as though they’re blaming _you_ for the whole divorce thing.” 

“Oh, they definitely are blaming me,” Castiel sighed as he led Dean down a long corridor lined with the sort of heavy, wooden doors found in medieval castles. Dean glanced at them in amusement and began to wonder if the whole house was tailored to Castiel’s sense of humour. “I’m the family disgrace. Have been for a while now.” 

Dean realised that his arm was still wrapped around the vampire and he released him with an apologetic smile. “Well, that sucks.” 

Castiel shrugged. “Doesn’t bother me for most of the year. My parents’ Winter Balls though… I usually get very drunk, very quickly.” He side-eyed Dean with a smirk. “This year’s shaping up to be a little different, though.” 

Holding his hands up, Dean grinned. “Hey, I’m all for raiding the liquor cabinet. Don’t let me stop you.”

Castiel hummed thoughtfully before coming to a halt in front of one of the doors. “My bedroom,” he said gravely, pushing the door open with a loud _creak_. 

Dean shifted uncomfortably, not entirely certain how to proceed, but Castiel stalked into the room and Dean had nowhere else to go so he trailed after the vampire. 

He stopped dead in his tracks when he actually drank in the sight of the room. The walls were pitch black like the rest of the old dusty furniture littering the place. An ancient wardrobe towered above the dark floor and an enormous grandfather clock ticked loudly from the corner of the room; its face showing thirteen hours instead of twelve. There were half-melted, unlit candles dotted around the room and the chandelier hanging from the centre of the ceiling flickered on and off dimly, spider webs tangled around its yellowed crystals. 

In the middle of the room lay a closed coffin.

Dean stumbled backwards, shocked and Castiel’s brows pinched together. “Is something wrong?” 

Dean’s eyes were a fraction too wide as he licked his lips. “What? No. No, no, no. Of course not. Nothing’s _wrong_. I just…” He gestured vaguely around the room. “I just wasn’t expecting… y’know.” 

Castiel looked mildly offended. “Wasn’t expecting what?”

Dean blanched. “Well… for you to sleep in a… coffin.” 

Castiel lifted his chin. “Well, I am a vampire.”

“Yeah, no,” Dean agreed, or maybe disagreed. He wasn’t entirely sure anymore – he just wanted to leave Castiel’s very off-putting bedroom. “No, I know that. Yeah. That’s… that’s fine.” If he just kept his gaze away from the coffin… 

“I don’t see what’s so bad about this place,” Castiel said as he walked towards the coffin and perched on its edge. It creaked ominously beneath his weight. “I think it’s quite homely. Cosy, even.” 

Dean chuckled nervously and shifted his gaze to the ceiling. “Yeah, yeah… it’s… nice. Lovely.”

Suddenly, Castiel began to laugh and Dean was surprised enough to stare at him. 

“You are far too polite, Dean. This isn’t my bedroom,” Castiel grinned as he opened the coffin and gestured Dean closer. 

Dean did so warily, swallowing as he neared the strange light emitting from inside the coffin. He peered inside and barked out a laugh. 

“This is my minibar,” Castiel chuckled. “The one my family doesn’t know about and never will because they’re too embarrassed to enter this room.” 

Grinning in delight, Dean plucked out a bottle of whisky and nearly dropped it when he read the label. “A thirty-five-year-old _Dalmore_? Dude, this stuff must be worth a fortune!” He eyed Castiel suspiciously. “How old are you?” 

Castiel chuckled. “Forty. This house was my grandfather’s and he gave it to me, along with all of its… ah… _treasures,_ before mother and father tossed him into a care home. He was the only one who actually supported me when I got rid of Bartholomew. He said that Bart was a rotten egg and that I deserved someone better. He… died a few years back. Dementia. Couldn’t remember who I was in the end.” 

Castiel stared at the collection of alcohol, not actually seeing any of it as his mind was plagued with memories of a time long since passed. 

Dean’s heart ached and he hesitantly reached out to squeeze the vampire’s shoulder. Castiel startled and smiled apologetically at Dean before crooking a finger for the wolf to follow him to the tall wardrobe. He threw open the doors and Dean laughed warmly at the dozens of wine bottles hidden inside. 

“I take it back,” Dean chuckled. “This is my favourite room.”

Castiel beamed at him. “Pick one. Anything you like. Consider it a thank you for going along with this hairbrained scheme of mine.” 

Dean blinked at the vampire, mouth falling open before he grinned and edged towards the coffin once more. “You sure?” 

“Pick one out to take home and pick one to open now for us to share,” Castiel said, hands clasped behind his back. “It’s the least I can do after you’ve given up your weekend for such a pathetic, filthy vampire.” 

Dean’s smile wavered as he scanned through unopened bottles. He raised his gaze to meet Cas’.

“Hey. I was wrong about you, okay? You’re not half bad. You’re actually pretty awesome and I get now why Sam likes you.” 

Castiel brightened, genuinely pleased by the compliment and Dean picked out two bottles.

He twisted the tall, umber bottle around under the dimly flickering lights with a happy hum. “Dad is gonna love opening a twenty-five-year-old _Macallan_ at Christmas.” 

He grinned at Cas only to find the vampire watching him with a soft gaze.

“What?” Dean asked. 

“You’re giving it to your father?” Cas asked quietly, smile tender.

Dean nodded enthusiastically. “I’ll never be able to afford anything like this again. So, thanks, Cas. You just made my dad’s Christmas.” 

Humbled, Castiel dropped his gaze and Dean handed him a _Talisker_.

“Let the party begin,” Dean smirked and Castiel chuckled as he headed towards a dusty dresser and pulled out two sparkling tumblers. 

They clinked their glasses and set to work on the three-thousand-dollar bottle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, this story is going to be cliche Christmas fluff and I won't apologise for it ;)


	6. Drink In Moderation

Dean was getting handsy and Castiel couldn’t stop snickering at his antics. Drinking aged whisky neat on an empty stomach probably wasn’t one of his greatest ideas, but here they were with a drained bottle of _Talisker_ , perched on top of a coffin in a dark and dusty room, sharing stories of their school days and near misses with human hunters. 

“We should probably go downstairs,” Castiel murmured as Dean inspected the bare skin of his shoulder, fingertips tracing over an old bullet wound. 

His hands were warm against Castiel’s flesh and his touch was gentler than anything Cas had felt in a long time. If he wasn’t careful, Cas would start having inappropriate thoughts about a straight werewolf and those sorts of ideas never led to anything good. 

He shrugged his shirt back into place and began buttoning everything back up.

“Wanna see mine? It’s on my thigh,” Dean asked eagerly, words slurring a little as he began to unbutton his trousers. 

Castiel laughed and gripped his wrist. “Okay, let’s not do that. Anyone could walk in and get the wrong idea.”

Dean frowned. “…But aren’t we pretending to be in a relationship anyway? Let ‘em look. Show ‘em what an attentive boyfriend I am.” He winked exaggeratedly and Castiel shook his head with a grin. 

“Okay, well… you might not be gay but I most certainly am and I’m worried that if I stare at a trouser-less you for too long, I might develop an issue in the crotch department. One that I’m sure my nest won’t approve of.” 

The wires in Dean’s brain were slow to connect, but once they did, he grinned proudly. “Are you… attracted to me?” 

Castiel heaved himself to his feet and waggled a finger at Dean. “A little. Maybe. You’re very good-looking.”

“Thanks,” Dean smirked as he stumbled to his feet. “You’re not too bad yourself.” 

Castiel squinted at him. “It’s a shame you’re straight,” he said solemnly. “I would probably have asked you on a date. Maybe. Might have waited ‘til I was sober.” 

Dean linked their hands together and sauntered out of the room. “If I wasn’t straight, I’d probably have said yes. But then again you _are_ a vampire, and I can be a bit of an ass about those sorts of details.” 

Castiel snickered and squeezed Dean’s hand affectionately as they descended the extravagant oak staircase.

They re-entered the hall to find everyone sitting down and Chuck apparently in the middle of a speech. He glowered at them, champagne flute raised in a toast, and the entire hall flicked disapproving gazes towards the drunken pair. 

“Don’t let us interrupt,” called Cas, giving his father a thumbs up as he led Dean towards the buffet table.

Dean tittered against his shoulder and the pair of them began loading food onto their plates as the hall’s occupants stared on in mortified silence. 

Oblivious, or maybe entirely aware of the chaos they were causing, Castiel and Dean headed towards Chuck’s table and took their assigned seats. They grinned innocently at him before tucking into their meals. 

Thoroughly derailed from his train of thought, Chuck cleared his throat awkwardly. “As I was saying… may our nest continue for many years to come, spurred on by consideration for one another, and graciousness, and… er… _dignity_ …” Chuck tried his hardest not to look at Castiel. “And may the next year bring us wealth and happiness. Cheers.” 

There was a drone of ‘ _cheers’_ as everyone raised their glasses in ceremony, but mutters rang through the hall as vampires stared in disdain at Dean and Castiel. 

“You’re a disgrace to this family,” Naomi growled into Castiel’s ear.

“And you, Mother, are like a broken record,” Castiel said cheerily as he popped a piece of potato into his mouth. 

“You smell like a bar,” Chuck hissed as he took his seat. “Where have you been all evening?”

“Screwing me,” Dean responded jovially. “Man, you should have seen it. He had me spread over this coffin, ass up, hand around my neck as he pistoned his gigantic-” 

_“Enough!”_ Chuck snarled, slamming a hand on the table. He jabbed an accusing finger between Dean’s eyes. “You are not welcome in this house, dog. You aren’t welcome anywhere near our nest. I want you out, right now!” 

“You don’t speak to him like that,” Castiel bit out, snaking an arm around Dean’s waist and tugging him closer. “You don’t speak to him like that _in my house_.” 

“This should never have been your house,” Chuck hissed. “You don’t deserve it. Your grandfather was mentally ill. _Confused_. He didn’t know what he was signing and you took advantage of him.” 

Some of the drunken haze cleared from Castiel’s eyes and he recoiled, wounded at the terrible accusation.

“You abandoned him!” Castiel snapped, loud enough to draw the attention of the entire hall. “He started to get sick and you left him in that home to _die!_ Your own father! I was the only one who visited him! The only one in this damn family who cared!” 

Chuck stood abruptly, expression thunderous. “This was supposed to be my house, Castiel, and you stole it from me! You tricked my father into signing that will and since then, you’ve done nothing but rebel against me! Rebel against this nest!” He flung a hand towards a solemn Bartholomew. “You even betrayed your own mate! Threw him out into the cold like he was worthless! Like those seven years meant _nothing_ to you!” 

Castiel stood too, matching his father’s fury. “I tricked no one!” he snarled. “Grandfather was fully aware of what he was doing! He was heartbroken after the way you abandoned him! He wasn’t as sick as you thought.” He graced Bartholomew with a disgusted glance. “And that _vile creature_ lied to and used me for _three_ _years._ I wouldn’t spit on him if he were on fire.” 

“Get out!” Chuck roared and Castiel bristled.

 _“This is my house!”_

“Get out of my sight, Castiel, before I teach you a lesson you’ll never forget!”

Castiel snapped his mouth shut, trembling with unadulterated fury. Fear tickled his mind at the prospect of another beating from his father and he felt his resolve crumbling as he slunk away from the table, head low. The silence within the room was suffocating and hot tears prickled at his eyes, cheeks burning as he heard the rumours begin in low whispers and breathy mutters. If he wasn’t already despised by his nest, he most definitely was now. 

His chest was tight and his suit was far too restrictive – so much so that he couldn’t force air into his lungs. His mind was buzzing with alcohol and the yells of his angry father and his skin itched with the disgusted glances of his nest. The world seemed to tilt to the left as he was overwhelmed by the intensity of it all and suddenly, there was a strong body beside his, keeping him upright. 

An arm wormed protectively around him and Castiel was aware of a deep rumble radiating from the chest of whomever was pulling him closer. 

“Don’t listen to him,” Dean growled beside his ear and strangely, the world tilted back to where it should be as Castiel allowed himself to be tucked into Dean’s side. “You’re better than the lot of them.” 

Castiel found himself melting into Dean as they strode across the room. They reached the door and Dean halted their path and turned to the hall with righteous fury burning in his eyes. 

“You don’t deserve him,” Dean hissed at the room before striding out of it.

They should have turned right, up the stairs and into Castiel’s bedroom, so Castiel frowned when Dean led them left and out of the front door. 

The cold was sobering and Dean and Castiel sucked in lungfuls of crisp, clean air until their heads stopped swimming. 

“We’re very drunk,” Castiel observed as he peered into the darkness.

Dean nodded in agreement and clutched Castiel tighter as he strode into the gardens. 

“Where are we going?” Castiel asked, perplexed, as they stumbled deeper into the gardens.

“Anywhere,” muttered Dean, eying the overgrown hedgerows. “Away from your nest. Away from your horrible parents. Just… anywhere that’s not _there_.” 

Castiel nodded in understanding and allowed Dean to guide him through the bushes and swaying trees. They came to a small bandstand and took shelter under it as the first drops of rain spattered the grass. The cold curled around them, chilling their skin and making them pull their jackets more snugly around their bodies. 

“You’re… angry,” Castiel said quietly as he turned to Dean. “Have I done something to upset you?”

Dean scoffed and shook his head. “I was about five seconds away from going full wolf on your dad. The things he accused you of…” Dean scowled, a growl rumbling in his throat. “He threatened you.” 

Castiel tilted his head in surprise. “Why do you care? You barely know me.”

“I know you’re Sam’s boss and that he loves working with you,” Dean murmured. “My brother’s usually a good judge of character. Plus, you’ve been pretty nice to me since I’ve been here.” 

“You’ve only been here a few hours,” Cas pointed out.

“Exactly. I already think you’re awesome after having known you for a handful of hours. Not many vamps can do that. There’s something different about you, Cas. You’re special.” 

Castiel’s cheeks heated in a peculiar manner as he returned his gaze to the dancing rain.

“Has he hit you before?” Dean asked after a while, watching the rain grow heavier and heavier until it pelted the earth and made the plants tremble under its force. 

Castiel backed away from the wooden rail and took a seat on the bench beside him.

“A couple of times,” he admitted softly. “When he learned about the will. Again, when I broke things off with Bartholomew. For a small guy, he can… ah… he can hit pretty hard.” 

Dean took a seat beside him and curled an arm around his shoulders. Castiel leaned into him gratefully and they ignored the rain soaking into the backs of their suits. 

“Your dad sucks,” Dean huffed and Castiel snorted in agreement.

“Why do you think I try my best to stay away from the nest?” 

“It ain’t right,” Dean grumbled, alcohol slurring his words. “Family’s supposed to look out for one another. They’re supposed to be the ones you can rely on to always have your back – the ones who you come home to after a long day and know that they’ll be there to make you feel better.” 

Castiel swung his feet childishly for lack of anything better to do. “Yeah, well… apparently, my nest didn’t get that memo.” 

Dean cast him a sympathetic glance and Castiel smiled back half-heartedly. He liked Dean, he decided. He was a good man. 

Handsome, too, Castiel thought idly as he gazed into grass green eyes. A well-sculpted jaw that framed pretty bow lips, and soft hair that was begging to be ruffled... If he had been a little drunker, he might have leaned in and pressed his mouth against the werewolf’s, just to see where it led them. 

Alas, he was slightly too sober and he remembered that Dean was straight. It wouldn’t be fair of him to put Dean in that position, regardless of how enticing he looked when backlit by moonlight and twinkling stars. 

Dean tilted his head adorably as he regarded Cas and the vampire averted his gaze before he did something he would ultimately regret. 

“Wanna get some pizza?” Dean asked suddenly. “On me. I’m starving.”

Castiel barked out a startled laugh before nodding enthusiastically. 

Dean grinned and fished for his phone. They ordered two pizzas, wordlessly agreeing to share them both, and Castiel wondered if Dean realised his arm was still wrapped around Cas’ shoulders. 

As they waited for the delivery car to roll up the long drive, Dean smirked at the vampire. “You ever seen a werewolf transformation?” 

Castiel’s eyes widened. “Only once, but that was because it was trying to kill me.”

Dean blinked and shook his head. “Well… I won’t be trying to kill you.” 

Castiel grinned and gestured for Dean to continue, so the werewolf sprung to his feet and took to the centre of the bandstand. 

Suddenly, his body seemed to expand and contract all at once and Castiel was expecting some sort of pained scream to erupt from Dean’s throat, or maybe a howl, but the transformation was silent and in a matter of seconds, Castiel found himself staring at a _very_ large, sandy-coated wolf painted with browns and creams and greys. The only things that identified him as the same creature that Cas had just been conversing with were the familiar green eyes. 

Castiel stood slowly, heart racing a little faster in the face of a centuries-old enemy. Whilst logically, he knew that Dean wouldn’t hurt him, it was instinctive for him to be wary around a transformed wolf. It would be so easy for Dean to lunge forwards and bite him – to kill him whilst there were no witnesses. Castiel licked his lips nervously. No one even knew he was out here… 

_‘Relax, Cas. You’re safe. I’m not gonna hurt you.’_

Castiel jumped at the voice within his head. It sounded a lot like Dean’s voice, but the wolf hadn’t moved his lips. 

Dean sat and cocked an ear, seemingly amused as his tail began to sweep the floor.

 _‘Telepathy,’_ Dean’s voice spoke again. _‘Werewolves can speak to animals **and**_ _people in this form. Now, stop being such a wuss and get over here. I won’t bite.’_

Castiel forced his feet to move and he tentatively reached out a hand to smooth it over Dean’s head.

The wolf closed his eyes, tail wagging harder and a smile wormed its way to Cas’ lips as he buried his fingers in fur far silkier than he had expected. It tickled his palm and shone brightly under the moonlight as Castiel pushed it in various directions. 

Dean cracked an eye open as Castiel ran his hand down his neck and back in awe. He scratched an ear playfully and Dean leaned into his touch with a happy rumble. 

“You really are just an overgrown puppy,” Castiel chuckled and Dean flopped onto his side with a noise somewhere between a growl and a sigh. 

_‘Hey, watch it,’_ Dean huffed as he closed his eyes again and allowed Castiel to ruffle his fur.

“Where do your clothes go when you do this?” Castiel asked curiously. 

_‘Beats me.’_

Castiel chuckled. “Good to know you’re as clueless as me when it comes to animal transformations. I’ve never understood it either.” 

Dean looked up at him curiously before his eyes widened and he scrambled to his paws.

 _‘You’re a vampire! You can morph into a bat!’_

Castiel smirked. “Sam told me that you hate bats. I’d better not – I wouldn’t like to scare you.”

Dean whined lowly and pressed his head against Cas’ chest. _‘Usually, I hate bats. But I like you. So, I’ll probably like you as a bat too.’_

Cas buried his fingers into Dean’s fur, basking in his warmth. “It’s been a long time since I’ve done this, so I might be a little rusty.” 

Dean scuttled backwards, gazing intently at the vampire as Cas gracefully rose to his feet.

Cas rolled his shoulders and felt the familiar prickle at his fingertips as skin formed between each digit and bones shifted out of place. He squeezed his eyes shut at the uncomfortable sensations and when he next prised them open again, he was staring up at a rather shocked-looking Dean. 

“You’re a flying fox!” Dean barked excitedly and Castiel blinked, surprised at the switch from telepathy to _actual barking_. 

Castiel stretched his impressive wingspan, giving Dean a flash of striking orange fur on his chest. The rest of him was a deep black, darker than the sky above them, and Dean shuffled towards him with a curious gaze. 

“You’re… really tall,” Dean said as he sat before Cas. “I was expecting something… small. And ugly.”

Castiel laughed and looked down at himself again. “I was graced with genes for one of the more aesthetic species of bat, although the size does make it a little difficult to blend in with the local wildlife.” 

He squeaked when a cool nose pressed into his chest and sniffed at him.

“You’re really soft,” Dean grinned, tongue lolling out of one side of his mouth as he straightened. 

Castiel flapped his great wings and landed on the bench, putting himself at a similar height to Dean.

“Hey, so are your family flying foxes too or are they all different?” Dean asked as he trotted closer. 

“My mother and sister are flying foxes. My father is a true vampire bat. The rest of my nest is a mix of… well, everything; fruit bats, Hondurans, pipistrelles, noctules… Depends on the parent genes and whichever is most dominant.” 

Dean nodded thoughtfully before glancing at the rain and, with an enthusiastic howl, sprinting onto the grass. The ground squelched beneath his paws and he sped around the bandstand a few times before shaking himself, throwing tiny rivulets of water from his fur in every direction. 

Castiel watched in amusement as Dean horsed around in the rain and he crawled onto the rail to get a better look at the huge wolf. After spending some time around Dean in his canine form, he felt more relaxed and he wondered if Dean was as calm around him as he was around the werewolf. 

He watched as Dean rolled in a small puddle. The wolf certainly seemed laid-back around him.

Suddenly, Dean turned to him, lowering his chest to the grass, paws outstretched as he wagged his tail. Castiel knew an invitation when he saw one and he squinted up at the rain clouds worriedly. He clung to a post and shook his head. 

“I can’t fly in the rain.”

“Then don’t fly,” Dean chuckled as he trotted over and offered his back. 

Castiel gaped at him and Dean laughed again.

“Come on, Cas! I won’t bite!” 

Castiel glanced at his long thumbs and the tiny claw attached to each one. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t,” Dean said, gaze softening. “I promise. Hop on.” 

Cas swallowed before leaping off the rail and landing on Dean’s back. Despite his own size, Dean felt huge beneath him and his first instinct was to grip the wolf’s scruff and hold on tight. 

“Comfy?” Dean asked.

Cas shifted until he was clinging tightly to the wolf. He nodded nervously, lying as flat as he possibly could. 

Dean chuckled again. “I’m not gonna let you fall,” he promised quietly before releasing another hair-raising howl and racing through the gardens. 

Castiel squeaked in alarm and buried his face in Dean’s fur but after a few moments, he found himself focusing on the gallop of Dean’s paws and the rhythmic bobbing and dipping of his spine. Dean’s thick muscles shifted easily beneath his grip and his chest expanded and contracted with each gulp of air. The beat of each movement was rather soothing and Castiel slowly lifted his head and watched the greenery soar past them. 

His breaths began to match Dean’s as his heart rate slowed and he settled into Dean’s inviting warmth as he focused on the water sliding over his wings. The sensation of a werewolf beneath him was so foreign and he knew it should feel wrong to him, but there was something… _special_ about Dean. Maybe it was because he actually trusted Dean. Maybe it was because Dean was the only one who supported him when his nest treated him like dirt beneath their feet. 

He nestled deeper into Dean’s fur and closed his eyes, feeling his body lose some of its tension.

They skidded past hedgerows and leapt over perennials, and Castiel found himself grinning as the rain soaked their fur. Dean must have sensed his enjoyment, for he barked eagerly and ran even faster, until Cas was laughing and holding tighter. 

They bounded onto the drive, heading towards the small graveyard and faster than they could register, there were bright lights in their eyes and the rumble of an engine far too close to their ears. They turned to the right with wide eyes and came face-to-face with a large, black Ford that had been masked by the darkness surrounding it. 

It was instinct that had Cas morphing and shoving Dean out of the way. They tumbled to the ground, both in human forms, arms wrapped around one another as they clenched their eyes shut and prayed that neither of them had been harmed. 

Distantly, they heard the car skid to a halt and they slowly opened their eyes, blue meeting green as they fought to steady their breaths. 

Castiel swallowed at his position on top of Dean, but he searched the werewolf’s face for any signs of pain. Dean’s eyes were slightly too wide as he gazed back, clearly searching Cas’ face for something similar as his fingers curled tighter around the vampire’s arm. 

“Are you okay?” Dean whispered worriedly.

Castiel managed a shaky nod, heart pumping far too fast. Both vampires and werewolves were pretty strong, but being run over by a car was enough to kill either of them. 

“I think you just saved my life,” Dean breathed, eyes round.

“Thanks for holding on,” Castiel whispered back, glancing at the hand that was still clutching his waist. If Dean hadn’t clung to him when he’d pushed the werewolf out of the way, there could have been crushed vampire decorating the driveway. 

“Hello?” called a shaky voice.

Castiel licked his lips and gazed at Dean’s pale face for a moment before rolling off the wolf and stumbling to his feet. He quickly dusted himself off and Dean joined him, looking rather shell-shocked. 

“Hello,” Castiel said, evening out his voice as the wide-eyed delivery man whirled to face him.

The man – a skinny, young human with acne and a greasy mop of hair – fumbled in his bag for two pizzas. Castiel tipped him and the man flicked his gaze around the garden nervously. 

“Hey, I saw this huge dog run across the drive and I… I’m not sure if I hit it? I didn’t hear it cry or anything, but… it was so close. It just ran out of nowhere and I… I’m awful sorry…” 

“You… ah… you didn’t,” Dean piped up, voice cracking slightly. “I just saw him run up to the house. Looked… pretty okay to me.” 

The delivery man relaxed a little, but he still seemed confused by the amount of dirt and water caking their suits, and the fact that they had seemingly appeared out of thin air. 

“Right, I’ll uh… I’ll get going then,” he said nervously before slipping into his car and driving away rather hastily. 

Dean ran a hand through his wet hair, eyes still entirely too wide as he watched the delivery man speed away. Castiel gently grasped his hand. 

“Come on,” he murmured. “Let’s get you inside.”

Dean allowed himself to be guided back to the house and by the time they stepped through the threshold, they were both shivering at the rain water soaking every fibre of their clothes. 

Castiel led Dean to his room and offered him a warm towel before turning away to give the werewolf some privacy as he stripped. He forced his eyes shut to ensure that he wouldn’t be tempted to sneak a peek at the naked wolf – Dean was far too handsome for his own good. 

To busy himself, Castiel dried himself off and changed into his sleepwear. He turned to Dean and raised his eyebrows upon finding the werewolf staring at him, a peculiar look in his eyes as he licked his lips. He wondered when Dean had finished changing into his own sleepwear. 

…Had Dean watched him strip?

The thought made Castiel’s pulse race and a thrill shoot through his gut. He shook his head and opened the pizzas, relieved to find them still warm. 

He offered Dean a box and perched on the king-sized bed, flipping the TV on as he did so. Dean crawled onto the bed after him and Castiel blinked when the werewolf pressed into his side and began chewing on a slice of pizza. Ignoring the rather intimate position, Castiel flicked through Netflix and side-eyed Dean when the werewolf nestled deeper into his side with a contented sigh around a mouthful of cheese. 

“Anything you want to watch?” Castiel asked quietly as he tried not to focus on Dean’s inviting warmth.

Dean shrugged. “Do you like sci-fi?” 

Castiel responded by selecting an old _Doctor Who_ episode and Dean grinned and returned his focus to his pizza. 

Castiel struggled to keep his attention away from Dean and he must have gazed at the werewolf for a little too long because Dean made a querying sound and offered him some of his pizza. 

Taking the excuse, Castiel offered Dean some of his pizza as he stole a slice from the werewolf, and Dean made a happy sound that caused Castiel’s chest to grow light and airy. 

Once they had finished eating and their hands were sufficiently clean, they settled down to watch another episode of _Doctor Who_ and Castiel startled when Dean slipped an arm around him. He said nothing however, as he leaned into the embrace and attempted to even out his own breaths. He hoped that Dean couldn’t tell exactly how much of an effect he was having on Cas. 

He frowned and wondered how normal it was for a straight, male acquaintance to wrap an arm around another man whilst watching TV on a bed. He subtly glanced to Dean and raised his eyebrows when he found Dean watching him. 

The werewolf blinked and flicked his gaze to the TV again, clearing his throat awkwardly.

“How are you feeling?” Dean asked casually. 

Castiel stared at the side of his face for a few moments, puzzled, before slowly shifting his gaze to the TV.

“All right,” Castiel replied slowly. “I mean, my entire nest hates me, my father threatened to hit me, and I almost got run over by a car whilst clinging to my fake boyfriend’s neck, but other than that… I’m fine. A bit drunk. How about you?” 

Dean grimaced and Castiel’s eyes widened a fraction when the werewolf gently squeezed him. “Yeah,” Dean mumbled eloquently and refused to elaborate. 

Confused by the entire exchange but suddenly craving comfort from the only person in the house whom was actually willing to give it, Castiel carefully rolled onto his side and lay his head on Dean’s shoulder. Dean stiffened immediately and Castiel tensed, ready to pry himself away if the werewolf questioned him, but then Dean cautiously relaxed and curled his arm more snugly around the vampire. 

Feeling bold, Castiel slid an arm around Dean’s stomach and the werewolf hesitated.

“Cas… I’m not… I can’t…” 

“I know,” Castiel whispered, heart beating too loud in his ears. “I’m not asking you to. I just… You’re the only one who treats me… You were there for me when my father… and no one has ever…” 

He snapped his mouth shut when Dean’s other arm snaked around him, holding him close.

“Okay, Cas,” Dean whispered and Castiel blew out a shaky breath as he wrapped both arms around Dean and squeezed his eyes shut. 

For the first time in years, he was overcome by a feeling of safety and bone-deep contentment. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had just _held_ him like this. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had stood up for him against his nest. 

Dean truly was something else. He hadn’t even known the man for twenty-four hours and already, he felt more affection for the werewolf than he did for any of his nest. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to fall for Dean hard and fast. 

He’d always scoffed at Disney movies and the way their characters fell for one another after only knowing one another for a day, yet here Dean was, giving every Disney prince a run for their money. He needed to find a way to distance himself. 

“Maybe I’m biased,” Dean whispered, lips brushing against Cas’ hair. “But you’re kinder and funnier and smarter than every last member of your nest. You’re amazing, Cas.” 

Castiel swallowed thickly. This weekend was not going to go well. He was going to end up pining after a straight werewolf he barely knew. Why did he agree to this ‘fake boyfriend’ plan anyway? Surely, facing Bartholomew wasn’t worth this? 

He wrinkled his nose. No. No, he’d rather go through the agony of developing unrequited feelings for a straight man than be locked in a room with his ex. 

He snuggled deeper into Dean’s side and the werewolf held him tighter as he smoothed a hand up and down his back in a calming fashion.

Before Castiel could register that his grip on consciousness was starting to slip, he was asleep on Dean’s shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a weakness for writing them drunk ;)


	7. Marking Your Territory

The next morning, Dean awoke to find himself still wrapped around Castiel. He stared at Cas in surprise for a moment and tried to recall what had led to him cuddling up to the vampire last night. 

Ah, yes. Alcohol. He’d been slightly drunk and Castiel had been slightly sad, and Dean had felt a little too protective over him, hence the rather intimate situation he was now trapped in. 

Wide blue eyes blinked up at him.

“…Good morning,” Cas said awkwardly. 

Dean nearly fell off the bed in his haste to put distance between them. “Morning,” he mumbled as he sprung to his feet. “You got a bathroom around here, somewhere?” 

Castiel pointed to a door leading off from his bedroom.

“En Suite,” he coughed uncomfortably. 

Dean smiled back awkwardly before striding out of the room.

He closed the door behind him and stared at himself miserably through the large mirror. Something was wrong with him, there had to be. He shouldn’t be enjoying the company of a vampire – Sam’s boss, no less – yet, yesterday had been one of the most entertaining nights he’d had in a long time. 

Cas was a wrench in the repetitive grind his daily life had become and Dean had never expected to laugh so much at a vampire’s antics, but Cas was… Cas was something else. He wasn’t at all what Dean had expected of him and he clearly didn’t fit in with the rest of his family. He was considerate towards Dean – going so far as to warn him of the blood in some of the food, and he had gone out of his way to ensure Dean wouldn’t accidentally ingest any wolfsbane or come into contact with moonstone. He was a caring man when it came to his grandfather and he valued faithfulness and loyalty in a way that his sister most definitely didn’t. He was a good person and for some reason, his family punished him for it. 

Dean had realised all of this in the few hours that he had come to know Cas and there had been a brief moment where alcohol had clouded their minds and they had been sheltering under the bandstand, watching the rain blanket the gardens, and Cas had turned to him with such a tender gaze and Dean had been _so certain_ that the vampire had been about to graze their lips together. The thought should have made his nose wrinkle, but in that moment, Dean knew that he wouldn’t have protested. He might have even reciprocated. 

And wasn’t that a complicated little thought?

Perhaps he could blame the alcohol. Perhaps he could blame it on the fact that he hadn’t made a friend he clicked with quite as much as he did Cas. Perhaps he could blame it on simple boredom. 

He would be lying to himself, but he wasn’t ready to contemplate his actual feelings yet; wasn’t quite ready to acknowledge them. 

He pressed his head against the cool surface of the mirror. He had another day and a half to get through yet.

He reared backwards suddenly and frowned at the mirror. Why did Cas have a _mirror?_

Intrigued by the new thought process, Dean popped his head around the door to find Cas staring forlornly at the wall. 

“Hey, Cas?”

The vampire startled and whipped his head around. 

“Why do you have a mirror?” Dean asked.

Castiel’s eyes rounded and he stared at Dean for a few long moments. “…So I can see myself…?” 

Dean threw the door open fully. “But you’re a vampire.”

Castiel’s eyes brightened in understanding. “Ah. Most mirrors are silver-coated. Some are aluminium-coated. Vampires don’t cast a reflection against the silver ones.” 

Dean nodded slowly and jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “So, this one’s aluminium?”

Castiel nodded and Dean grinned in boyish wonder. “Awesome,” he said before ducking back into the bathroom.

* * *

“So,” hummed Dean as they exited Castiel’s bedroom. “What’s on the agenda for today?” 

Castiel ran a hand through his hair, unintentionally fluffing it. “Eating, drinking, and a hunt that I refuse to take part in.” 

Dean cocked an eyebrow. “A hunt?”

Castiel nodded, brows creasing. “After dinner. It’s an antiquated tradition that celebrates the united strength of the nest. Originally, it was celebrated by hunting some poor human and either drinking them dry or turning them, depending on the type of celebration. Nowadays, an innocent, defenceless animal is hunted and slaughtered in the name of nest solidarity.” Castiel smiled thinly. “Too many missing persons reports led to quite a bit of trouble for our nest, back in the nineteen-fifties. Something had to change, although some of our elders weren’t best pleased about the decision.” 

Dean shook his head in distaste. “Lovely. I do enjoy a bit of violent murder after dessert.”

Castiel quirked a smile and Dean’s gaze lingered on it for a moment before he cleared his head again. 

They made their way downstairs in a comfortable silence and Dean was content to follow wherever Cas led him. They made their way to the kitchens, where Cas ignored the staff’s glares and their attempts to shoo him out of the way, and set to work on making Dean and himself something to drink. 

They left with a coffee for Dean and a tea for Cas and then they stole a couple of golden croissants from the pastry basket that one of the chefs was filling. She yelled at them angrily and Castiel merely rolled his eyes as Dean smiled at her charmingly. 

“I should show you the rest of the house,” Castiel mused as they peeked into the dining hall and decided it best to avoid Cas’ family for now. 

“You got any more secret rooms like your coffin room?” Dean asked as he fell into step beside Castiel.

Cas smiled, warm and fond. “This house is full of secrets. Passageways, hidden doors, folding shelves… my grandfather used to show me something new every time I visited.” 

Dean’s gaze softened as he glanced around the old walls. Currently, they were decorated with an assortment of fairy lights, tinsel, and various species of plants considered ‘festive’, but he could imagine a young Cas running after his grandfather, exploring every hidden nook and cranny with a look of awe and wonder as each secret was revealed to him. 

They stepped into a huge library with one of those wheely ladders that Dean had always wanted to jump on and speed down the columns of shelves as a child. To the left and ahead of them stood impressive rows of books, whilst to the right lay a wall of windows, which bathed the room in the bright light of the morning sun. The floor was littered with houseplants and art, giving the place a refreshing and uplifting air. 

“Sam would love it here,” Dean commented as his gaze roamed over hundreds, maybe thousands of books; each one a different colour and size to its neighbours. 

Castiel raised an eyebrow. “I shall have to invite him around for dinner, then. Preferably when my nest is ruining someone else’s house.” 

Dean bit back a grin and gazed out of the huge windows at the beautiful gardens surrounding the house. Winter had caused many of the plants to wither and die, but Dean could imagine the garden in all of its summer glory – dotted with blooming flowers and vivacious colours. He could imagine the birds that would sing between the shrubs and the squirrels that would leap between each tree. 

“You’ve got a real nice place here, Cas,” Dean hummed, transfixed by the pale oranges and yellows bouncing off the raindrop-laden grass. 

There was a large pooling of light over the library floor, caused by the wall of glass, and Castiel stepped into it and joined Dean’s side as he, too, gazed across the gardens. Dean stifled his surprise when the vampire didn’t begin to sizzle. 

“You should see it when my nest isn’t here to disturb the peace,” Castiel said softly.

For a moment, Dean imagined himself completely alone with the vampire as they gazed across a garden in full bloom. He imagined Castiel smiling contentedly as they clasped coffee mugs between their hands, shoulders brushing and both of them at ease with one another. 

Dean frowned and cleared his mind. That was an odd daydream.

“Castiel.” 

Both vampire and werewolf startled and turned to the source of the call. Immediately Castiel stiffened and Dean found himself subtly scenting the air, trying to gain as much information as he could about the smug-looking man in the slate-grey suit blocking the doorway they had just passed through. 

“Good morning,” said the newcomer with a polite smile that Dean decidedly didn’t like.

“Bartholomew,” Castiel said coldly and Dean instinctively moved to Cas’ side, eying the unwelcome vampire with a wary gaze. 

Bartholomew briefly shifted his attention to Dean before returning it to Castiel. “Sleep well?”

“Fine,” Castiel said curtly. “You?” 

Bartholomew looked down almost sadly before smiling again. “Yes. A little lonely, but otherwise… fine.” He glanced around the library with a wistful expression. “This place brings back some memories.” His gaze caught Cas’. “It’s good to see you again.” 

Castiel was stiff with discomfort and anger and Dean had to force himself not to wrinkle his nose with the scent of it. 

“I wish I could say the same,” Castiel said coolly.

Bartholomew’s smile wavered for a moment before he closed his eyes, seemingly pained. 

“Castiel… I’m sorry. I really am. You mean so much to me and I was a fool to let you slip through my fingers.”

“Me or the inheritance?” Castiel asked archly. 

Bartholomew pulled a face and shook his head. “You, of course. Your money means nothing to me. You, on the other hand… Castiel, I _miss_ you. I still love you. If you could just give me a second chance, if you could give _us_ a second chance… you’ll see just how much I mean it.” 

Castiel scoffed loudly. “And what about your _other_ family? What was her name? Hannah? And your _children?_ Or are they boring now? Not rich enough for you? Why exactly did she divorce you?” 

Bartholomew pursed his lips and held a hand up. “I made a mistake; is that what you want to hear? Hannah and I… we didn’t fit. We weren’t right for one another.” 

Castiel smiled bitterly. “You were right for each other for three years of _our_ marriage.”

“I made a mistake. I’m sorry,” Bartholomew sighed, as though he was growing weary of the conversation. “I just want us to be happy again.” 

“You know what would make me happy?” Castiel growled. “You staying away from me _and my boyfriend_ for the remainder of this weekend.” 

Bartholomew scowled and gestured to Dean. “This flea-bitten mongrel? You’re _sleeping_ with him? Surely your standards haven’t lowered that drastically since our parting?” 

Dean crossed his arms. “This ‘flea-bitten mongrel’ has fully functional ears, you know.”

Castiel pressed into Dean’s side pointedly. “I fail to see how faithfulness and loyalty amounts to ‘lowered standards’.” 

With a disdainful curl of his lips, Bartholomew glanced over Dean. “You can’t be serious, Castiel. He’s a _werewolf_. A beast. Our _enemy_. He doesn’t deserve you.” 

Dean slipped a possessive arm around Cas and smiled tightly at Bartholomew. “Hey, how about you try to break someone else’s heart? Y’know, since I’ve just about glued Cas’ back together?” 

He tried to ignore the way Castiel seemed to relax into him; his whole body practically folding into Dean’s side as Dean held him tighter. Bartholomew eyed them in disgust and shook his head. 

“Castiel, please. Cease this ridiculousness. We could be happy again – like we were before. We were good for each other.” 

“Not good enough,” Castiel said viciously before narrowing his eyes and lowering his voice dangerously. “I don’t care what my parents have told you; I will _never_ crawl my way back to you. I want you out of my house, Bartholomew. _For good_.” 

Bartholomew pursed his lips and looked ready to argue, but Dean had grown tired of the other vampire and didn’t particularly enjoy the way he was addressing his new friend. He growled low in his chest, pointedly holding Cas closer as he glared at the unwelcome vampire, and he allowed anger and possessiveness and _threat_ to dominate his scent until the room was ripe with it. 

Bartholomew wrinkled his nose and stepped backwards at the intimidating stench, and Dean smirked a little when the vampire appeared to gag before covering it with a cough. 

“At least think about it,” Bartholomew said to Castiel, clearly ready to escape the offensive stink of a werewolf. “I’ll see you tonight at the hunt.” 

He turned smartly on his heel and paced away rather speedily, and Dean smirked in amusement before calming his scent once more. He glanced over at Castiel and found the vampire pulling a strange face, eyes closed. 

Dean chuckled. “Sorry. Couldn’t think of another way to make him leave.”

Castiel huffed a laugh and cocked an eyebrow at Dean. “That was… pungent.” 

Dean grinned and stepped away from Cas, allowing the vampire to breathe cleaner air.

“Very effective, mind you,” Castiel hummed after a moment before adding with a smirk, “quite flattering, actually.” 

Dean winked and was oddly delighted when Cas offered his arm in order to continue their exploration of the manor. He latched onto Castiel with exaggerated eagerness and a wiggle of his eyebrows and Castiel pulled him closer with a sultry glance. 

“Thank you for protecting my virtue,” Castiel purred in a way that had Dean stifling his snickers.

“Anything for you, my love,” Dean whispered theatrically and Castiel sent him a brilliant grin before dragging him out of the library.

* * *

“So, her father stands up and pulls this _rifle_ off the wall and swings it around at me, and at first, I thought he was just messing around. The thing can’t be _loaded_ , right? But then I see her mother going for the knife and I make a run for the door. Except, Lynda hasn’t gone to the bathroom at all, no. She’s standing in front of the door, a _loaded silver-tipped crossbow_ pointed directly at me,” Dean said as they ventured through the graveyard. 

Snow fell lightly around them, making the air crisp and cold, and the gravestones were dusted with glistening frost. A peaceful quiet blanketed the landscape and there was no one except the robins to eavesdrop on their conversation. 

“And there’s this look in her eyes,” Dean continued as Castiel listened with rapt fascination, “and I realise it was all a setup. Every second of it. The dates, the kisses, the laughing, the sex… all of it. All perfectly timed to get me to that point. I don’t know how long she knew I was a werewolf, but it took me until then to realise that her entire family were hunters.” 

“How did you escape?” Castiel asked, horrified.

Dean chuckled. “I did what any twenty-year-old would do in my situation. Threw myself through the window, legged it into the forest, and ignored the glass in my arm. Next thing I know, I’ve got three hunters on my tail. I morph and think I’ve lost them, when out of nowhere, this arrow lodges itself into my _ass_ and I go down like a sack of potatoes.” 

Castiel straightened in alarm and Dean shook his head. “Man, it hurt like you wouldn’t believe and the worst part was I could _feel_ it sapping my strength, weakening me. It was like poison and all my senses started to fade. I keep running and I can see my house but I’m too slow. Far too slow. I won’t make it in time before I fall unconscious and the hunters make a rug out of my hide.” 

Suddenly, Dean grinned. “Dad and Sammy spot me as I go down the second time. I’ve never seen them run so fast. They didn’t care if any of the neighbours saw – before I close my eyes, I watch them transform and sprint towards me. Dad says those hunters were over the horizon before he and Sam even got to me.” 

Cas huffed a laugh and stuffed his cold fingers into his pockets. “Sounds as though you have a reliable pack.”

“The best,” Dean stated proudly. 

“I don’t think I would have been so lucky if I had been in your place,” mused Castiel. “My nest would have allowed me to be mounted on a hunter’s wall as a trophy.” 

Dean pulled a face. “Oh, come on. They wouldn’t.”

Castiel raised an eyebrow at Dean. “Dean. When my parents first found me kissing a boy in my room, they pushed him against a wall and showed him their teeth. They were going to _drain_ him. Fortunately for poor Mick, I managed to turn them off the idea. Told them there would be an investigation into a missing minor and, since there were people at school who knew that Mick and I were dating, I would be at the top of the suspect list.” 

Dean grimaced as Castiel buried his hands deeper into his pockets. “A-plus parenting right there. Sucks that Mick found out about the whole vampire thing. Did you like him?” 

Cas smiled in amusement. “We’d been dating for seven months by this point. Mick already knew that I was a vampire.” 

Dean blinked and halted his path as he stared at Dean. “Was he human?”

Castiel nodded. “Not all humans are frightened of us. Not if we prove that we can be trusted.” 

Dean frowned. “Then why’d you break up?”

Castiel smiled. “We broke up three months after that. Nothing major, we just… drifted apart. Decided we weren’t right for each other. We were only seventeen.” 

Dean stared at the snowflakes landing delicately on his shoes. They melted immediately upon contact with the glossy leather. He had sworn off dating humans after Lydia because he had assumed that all humans were the same; they either became terrified after learning of the supernatural, or they revealed themselves to be hunters and tried to murder him. In fact, he’d sworn off relationships with anything that wasn’t another werewolf, but he was beginning to question his decisions after meeting Castiel. The vampire didn’t seem to have any problems with interspecies relationships – in fact, it appeared that his own species caused the most problems for him. Perhaps Dean had just had some rotten luck in his lifetime? 

“…You got a girlfriend?” Castiel asked after a long pause. “Anyone you’re interested in?”

Dean shook his head slowly as they set off again. “A couple of short-term things, but nothing solid. Don’t think I’ve ever had anything solid. Nothing longer than three months, anyway. I’ve just… never _clicked_ with anybody.” He sighed softly. “I dunno… maybe I’m just not the ‘settling down’ type?” 

Castiel’s brow creased. “Maybe you’ve just not found the right girl yet?”

Dean shrugged. “Maybe.” He kicked at a lump of snow and watched it spray over a tiny shrub. “What about you? You got a guy in mind?” 

Castiel chuckled as he side-eyed Dean. “Depends. Have you changed your mind about being straight yet?”

A surprised laugh burst from Dean’s lips and he shook his head. “Nah, not yet. But by all means, keep trying.” 

Cas grinned and returned his gaze to the snowy grass. “Figures I’d be attracted to the straight brother,” he teased in a way that made Dean question whether he was teasing at all. 

He stilled and Castiel turned to him curiously. “Too far?”

Dean tilted his head. “…Are you actually attracted to me?” 

Cas shrugged, looking wary. “I mean… I can’t be the only one. You’re definitely my type and you’re charming and funny… smarter than you make yourself out to be. I get why people fall for the ‘fake boyfriend’ act.” He frowned. “But I’m not going to act on it. You’re straight and you’ve already said that you’re not interested in dating anyone outside of your species. I wouldn’t do that to you, Dean. You’re only here to help me out of a jam, right?” 

There was a strange pang in Dean’s sternum – one that made him inhale deeply. He smiled. “Right. Exactly. Thank goodness… I thought this was going to turn out like Benny all over again.” 

Castiel set off once more. “Benny?”

“One of the guys I pretended to date when I was eighteen. Ironically, he was probably the longest ‘relationship’ I had. Well, until he confessed that he was in love with me and I had to remind him that it was all pretend for the sake of his nest.” Dean shook his head bitterly. “And then his parents came for my neck because apparently, I’d broken their son’s heart.” 

Castiel stared at Dean as though he’d grown another head and Dean raised his eyebrows. “What?”

“You said ‘nest’.” 

Dean winced. “Yeah. I did.”

“Dean… was Benny a vampire?” Castiel asked, stunned. 

Dean nodded. “…I wasn’t born racist,” he teased awkwardly. “I learned it. After Mr. and Mrs. Lafitte cornered me under the bleachers. Mrs. Lafitte nearly sunk her teeth in but a couple of humans interrupted. They didn’t notice us, wrapped up with one another as they were, but Benny’s parents didn’t want to reveal themselves to the local humans and so, I managed to escape.” 

Cas stared at him with wide eyes. “No wonder you didn’t want to come here.”

Dean managed a small smile. “It’s also why I swore off interspecies. Like I said; too many complications.” He paused. “You’re different though. I think. Benny kept promising that he understood it wasn’t real. He kept telling me that he wasn’t interested and then, he dropped that bombshell on me in the middle of dinner. And there was Crowley – a wolf – who I played pretend for as well. He said it was to stop his parents from mating him off to some rich girl from another pack. Told me he was a hundred percent straight and that he wanted me around for the shock factor.” 

Dean smiled wryly. “Two months later, he comes out to his pack and asks me to _mate him_.”

Castiel choked a little and Dean bit back his own amusement. “So, like I said; you’re different. Honest. It’s nice to know you won’t act on your… _feelings_.” 

Castiel snorted. “Don’t flatter yourself. I’d hardly call them ‘feelings’. I’m just stating a fact that many people already know; you’re hot _and_ you’ve got a great personality.” 

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Dean chuckled as he trailed his finger through the layer of snow forming on the nearest gravestone. 

“You should,” said Castiel cheerily before he squinted at the grey clouds amassing above them. “Perhaps we should head inside?” 

Dean followed Cas’ gaze and nodded. They sauntered towards the house and Dean felt oddly at ease beside the vampire as a companiable silence fell between them. There was something so… calming about Castiel’s presence. He vaguely recalled the weight of Cas’ head against his shoulder the previous evening and the sense of peacefulness that had washed over him – as though the rest of the world hadn’t mattered in that moment. 

Before they could make it up the steps of the porch, a scruffy head bobbed out from behind the door.

“Castiel?” 

Dean didn’t miss the way Castiel straightened to his full height.

“Can I help you?”

The small man revealed himself fully with a smile that looked as though he’d never had need for that particular expression before. 

“Metatron,” the man said, hand outstretched. “You’re Castiel Novak, right? Your parents have told me so much about you. It’s such a pity we didn’t get to meet last night.” 

Castiel’s lips drew into a thin line and he cautiously shook Metatron’s hand. “Yeah, such a pity. This is Dean, my boyfriend.” He reeled backwards and gestured to the werewolf and Dean plastered on a wide grin and waved at the older vampire. 

Metatron seemed to deflate a little before forcing a smile. “Ah… nice to meet you.” He eyed Castiel a little too sharply for Dean’s liking. “Your parents told me that you were single.” 

“I’m sure they did,” Castiel purred with a wry smile. “What else did they tell you?”

A frown creased Metatron’s features. “That you were searching for a wealthy man with a respectable job and good assets. Someone of traditional vampire stock – someone with good breeding and great respect for the old ways. Someone of great societal standing amongst our species.” He lifted his chin arrogantly and Castiel chuckled as he wound his arm around Dean’s. 

“I thought as much,” he muttered before leaning towards Metatron conspiratorially. “See, the problem with my parents is that they’re pathological liars.” 

Metatron blinked and straightened. “You mean I’ve come out here for nothing?”

“Afraid so,” hummed Castiel airily. “I’m very much unavailable,” he stated as he squeezed Dean’s arm pointedly. 

Not entirely certain what possessed him to do so other than the way Metatron was glaring at him, Dean turned and gently nuzzled Castiel’s hair, satisfied when Metatron’s face grew redder. Cas seemed a little caught-out by the demonstration but his easy smile soon returned and, playing along, he gazed up at Dean tenderly and cupped his cheek for a moment. 

Dean’s stomach seemed to… flip as he stared into bright, mischievous eyes, and then Castiel turned away again and Dean felt himself swallow thickly. _Weird._

Metatron looked comically outraged. “A _werewolf?_ You’re actually _involved_ with it? This… this _thing?”_

Dean rolled his eyes, accustomed to the constant barrage of insults, but Castiel clenched his fists and suddenly lurched towards Metatron. 

“Mind your mouth,” he warned.

Metatron grit his teeth. “I left New York for _this?_ A rebellious, disgraceful, _stupid_ brat?” He gestured to Dean angrily. “Who’s apparently into bestiality!” 

Dean bit back a laugh as Metatron seethed, but Castiel loomed over the smaller vampire threateningly and Dean raised his eyebrows at the power simmering beneath the surface. 

“Leave,” Castiel hissed.

Metatron flinched at the tone before whirling on his heel and marching back inside the house. He paused in the doorframe and waggled an accusing finger at Castiel. 

“I’d better be compensated for this! I had to take a day off work! Your parents promised me-”

“I know _exactly_ what my parents promised you and let me assure you that you _won’t_ be getting it. Not ever,” Castiel snarled, teeth unsheathing themselves in the heat of his fury. 

Dean stiffened at the sight of them and Metatron’s eyes blew wide before he zipped into the house.

Castiel glared at the closed door for a few moments and Dean calmed his nerves before placing a gentle hand on the vampire’s shoulder. Immediately, the tension drained from Castiel’s frame and the sharp, needle-like teeth hid themselves once more. 

“I must smell disgusting to you,” Cas sighed as he closed his eyes, voice soft.

Scenting the air subtly, Dean shook his head in surprise. Actually, the vampire smelled… quite nice. Intimidating but… nice. Appealing, even. 

Which was really strange, now that he thought about it. Because yesterday, Castiel had smelled like a rotting corpse. 

“Why let him get to you?” Dean asked instead. “You’ll never see him again anyway.”

Castiel exhaled wearily and leaned against Dean without seeming to notice. Automatically, Dean wrapped a supportive arm around him. 

“It’s not him,” Castiel murmured. “It’s my parents. My nest. This… isn’t the first time this has happened; them trying to set me up with a rich sleazeball. They strike deals like this all the time because I’m the black sheep of the family. The one who brings shame to the nest. I’m the one who’s friends with humans and refuses to partake in archaic traditions. I’m the only one who was written into Grandfather’s will and the only openly gay member of the nest.” Cas licked his lips and averted his gaze angrily. 

“My parents promise these strangers money and status if they can get me to marry them. They don’t care who they’re setting me up with as long as they’re rich, upper class, and of traditional vampire blood; anything to make me less of a disgrace.” 

Castiel laughed bitterly. “Plus, there’s the house. Anything to get themselves one step closer to taking this place off me.” 

Fury raced through Dean’s veins at the hurt in Castiel’s tone and the intensity of his own reaction made Dean frown in surprise. 

“The more I hear about your nest, the more I dislike them,” Dean grumbled, an itch blossoming beneath his skin. He scratched at his side idly. 

“My parents’ house isn’t a grotty little apartment either,” Castiel griped. “It’s an eight-bedroomed house with an indoor spa – very contemporary and very expensive. And my sister? She owns one of those penthouse suites in LA. I don’t understand what they want this old place for… It isn’t as though they spent much time here with Grandfather.” 

The itch began to spread and Dean ignored it in favour of staring up at the impressive manor house.

“Don’t give into them,” Dean said resolutely. “They don’t deserve this place. It’s your home.” 

Cas’ head plopped onto his shoulder and Dean glanced at him curiously as he scratched his own palm. The vampire’s eyes were closed, lashes falling delicately against his cheeks as he sighed tiredly. He seemed to sag against Dean and the werewolf held him a little tighter once he remembered that his arm was still wrapped around his waist. 

“Thank you,” Cas said softly. “For being on my side. It’s been a long time since anyone has supported me like you have.” 

With dawning horror, Dean realised what the itch was. He stared at the top of Castiel’s head helplessly. “No problem.” 

Cas glanced at his watch. “The toast will begin soon, followed by dinner. I don’t particularly want to join in but I’ll probably be forced to if I don’t.” He smiled sadly at Dean. “Ready?” 

Dean nodded wordlessly and Castiel’s smile grew a little more genuine before his nose wrinkled and he frowned. He sniffed at Dean and pulled away with a curious tilt of his head. 

“You smell… good. Really good. That’s… unusual.”

Dean’s cheeks flamed with embarrassment and he cleared his throat awkwardly. “We should go inside.” 

Cas quickly latched onto his mortification and grinned, eyes sparkling with amusement. “What? Why is that so bad?” 

Dean shook his head quickly. “It isn’t. It’s just…” He pulled a face. “We should go inside before we miss the toast.” 

Castiel placed a hand on his chest and, to Dean’s dismay, the itch flared stronger. “The toast is awful and you’ll hate it. Now, why are you so embarrassed at me saying you smell nice?” He was grinning wider now, corners of his eyes crinkling with joy, and Dean’s mouth dried in a way that was entirely unrelated to the itch. 

“It’s just… a werewolf thing. Can we please go inside?” Dean begged.

Unfortunately, Cas wasn’t so easily swayed. “Tell me,” he pressed, a chuckle on his lips that had Dean’s stomach doing acrobatics. 

Confused by the separate events occurring inside his own body, Dean pushed away from Castiel and immediately regretted it when the vampire’s expression fell, humour draining from his face. Instinctively, Dean stepped towards him once more and Cas frowned, just as puzzled as he was. 

“If it’s too personal-”

“It’s a pheromone,” Dean interrupted before Castiel could get too insecure about the whole event. “We call them ‘care’ pheromones. It’s a specific scent we release when we’re around someone we care about – like a pack member, or someone we want to introduce into the pack.” Dean rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. “It’s supposed to induce a feeling of comfort and safety in the receiving party.” 

Castiel was quiet for a long moment before he nodded slowly. Dean refused to meet his gaze.

“So, what you’re saying is…” Castiel began, uncertainly, “you want me to call Metatron back so you can invite him into your pack?” 

Dean blinked and whipped his gaze up to Cas in order to correct him, only to be greeted with the sight of the vampire grinning at him knowingly. 

“Very funny,” Dean huffed.

“I’m honoured,” Castiel said sincerely and Dean felt himself relax. 

Castiel glanced around them both as he clasped his hands in front of him. “So, is there a set of instructions I have to follow? Something I’m supposed to do to get you… ah… back to normal?” 

Dean grimaced, but a little part of his chest warmed at Castiel’s easy acceptance of his strange biology.

“Well, the whole point of me smelling so great to you is so you’re more likely to allow me to… um… mark you.” 

Castiel blinked as he processed that. “ _Mark_ me? As in scent mark?” The amused grin had returned.

Dean’s cheeks reddened again. “Yeah. But obviously, you don’t have to do that. I mean… you’re obviously not a wolf and I don’t know if being marked by a werewolf is offensive for your species, so…” 

“Oh, it’s absolutely offensive and my nest would _loathe_ it,” Castiel agreed eagerly.

Dean licked his lips as he stared at Castiel. “…Right. So, I’m not expecting you to let me mark you in my pack scent. Don’t worry; if you can put up with the scent for a bit longer, the itch will fade and eventually, the pheromones will disappear. It’ll be like nothing ever happened and we can forget all about it.” 

Castiel nodded thoughtfully and took a step towards Dean. “Right, how long will that take?”

“Couple of hours,” Dean coughed as he tore his gaze away from the vampire and tried to focus on anything that wasn’t the insufferable itch. 

Cas nodded solemnly. “Well, that would be the proper thing to do. After all, I am a vampire and you are a werewolf and it would be _obscene_ for you to start scent marking me in the middle of my parents’ ball.” 

Dean closed his eyes. He could hear the sarcasm dripping from Castiel’s voice and he knew exactly what Cas wanted, because he wanted it too, no matter how ‘obscene’ it was. 

This vampire was going to be the death of him.

A hand wrapped around his arm and Dean cracked an eye open to peer at Castiel’s humorous grin. 

“Do I look the type to be offended by someone offering me friendship?” Castiel asked softly.

Dean huffed a laugh and dragged Castiel in for a tight hug, pheromones strengthening as he began to rub his hands over Cas’ arms and back. He ruffled the vampire’s hair playfully, working his scent into the silky tufts, and his gaze warmed when Cas practically collapsed against him. 

“You know, it’s really unusual for a werewolf to have the urge to scent mark someone they only met a day ago,” Dean murmured beside Castiel’s ear as he gave into the desire to press his face into Cas’ hair and inhale. He smelled like _pack_ and _home_. “Even weirder for that person to be a vampire.” 

Castiel grinned. “I suppose I’m special then?”

Dean hummed in agreement and held the vampire closer. 

“Maybe it’s an instinct?” Cas mused as Dean continued to mark him. “Maybe you feel sorry for me? Like when humans pity an orphaned animal and take it in. Maybe subconsciously, you see me as in need of a nest, or _pack_.” 

Dean frowned contemplatively. “Still doesn’t explain the vampire thing. Centuries-old enemies and all that.”

Cas smirked. “Maybe I’m not actually a vampire. Maybe I’m adopted. Please let me be adopted.” 

Dean laughed and reluctantly released Cas but, to his delight, Castiel slid to his side.

“How do I smell?” Cas teased as he attempted to smooth his hair into some semblance of order. 

“Less ‘decomposing corpse’, more ‘wet dog’.”

“Excellent,” Castiel grinned as he looped his arm with Dean’s. “Let’s disappoint the family some more.” 

Dean’s heart fluttered as Cas led him inside.


End file.
